Of Birds and Music
by Ely-Baby
Summary: For the first time in their life, they don't have to follow anybody's rules, they don't have to fight or pretend to be something that they aren't or to have something that they don't have. They are themselves and have each other and that is all that matters to them. Post Mockingjay. KatnissxPeeta.
1. Chapter One

**Author's note:** Obviously whatever you recognize is not mine. It's Suzanne Collins', in case you were wondering. I promised myself no more fan-fictions, and yet here I am. I finished the Hunger Games trilogy last night and couldn't take this story out of my head, so I know I have to write it down to get over it and go on with my life. This has not been beta-read, and I am not an English mother tongue (Mamma mia, I am Italiana!) so excuse my grammar, vocabulary, typos and anything that might create any discomfort to you while reading this. If you want to beta this for me, by all means, send me a correct version of it in my inbox. If you don't, no worries. I don't really mind. It is just because I need to get on with my life really. This story starts exactly at the end of the last chapter and goes on until the Epilogue. I felt like too much was left out at the end about Peeta and Katniss and needed to fill in the blanks.

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**Chapter 1**

_So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"_

_I tell him, "Real." _

His arm tightens around my shoulders and I just snuggle closer to him. In the shadow of my room – suddenly I wonder if this is _our_ room now – it is hard to make out an expression on Peeta's face, but somehow I know he is smiling. His hand finds mine on his chest and he plays with my fingers for a while before he takes it firmly in his grip and his cheek leans against my head. We don't say anything else, we fall asleep and sleep through the night with no nightmares, neither of us, and I know that because when I wake up we are still in the same position of when we fell asleep.

xxx

Things seem to change and yet to be the same. Now that I know something more about me, who I love, who I want spend my life with, who I can't live without, I feel suddenly happier. Nobody seems to notice though, not Greasy Sae when she comes in to make us breakfast, nor her granddaughter nor Haymitch. That makes me feel even more thrilled about my new discovery. There are only a bunch of people that live in the Victors' Village of 12 right now, and it is not easy to keep a secret from them or even to do something privately without others knowing. It feels wonderful to have your private life for yourself after it has been distorted on television for everyone to see. I am surprised as to see that my _real_ private life that nobody knows about it and the _not real_ one are the same.

Today, I want to go hunting and a really stupid idea crosses my mind. I want Peeta to come with me. I think that would mean coming home with nothing in the bag. But I could take him to the lake and just show him what he has only seen on television – if they had let him see the propos at all when he was still at the Capitol. It feels a bit weird, because the woods are Gale's and my place and somehow I feel like I am betraying my friend. Ex-friend. Hunting partner. Ex-hunting partner. I don't know how to call him anymore. Not that it matters, since I haven't seen him in months. But suddenly I understand, I don't need to hunt anymore. I mean, I don't need to hunt the way I needed to hunt before. For food. I need to hunt to preserve my sanity, or what little remains of it, and who better than Peeta would understand that and would help me to do that. That's a lie. He would help me doing everything.

I hurriedly braid my hair and grab my bow and arrows, I am already dressed and all I need to do is finding Peeta now. That is not difficult either, I could follow the track that he has obviously left behind him. The scent of cinnamon, some flour on the floor, paint maybe. But I don't even have to. I know perfectly well where he is, so it is no surprise when I find him in the small room next to the living room. The painting room as we decided to call it when his paintings had covered every single surface and had started to pile one above the other. I don't like to go in there and he had promised to never take them out since all he can paint are things that I want to forget.

I stand on the door and look at him for while before I decide to let him know that I am there. His body is tense and I can see his hand is firmly painting the golden lines on the minuscule body of a tracker jacker.

"I am going hunting," I finally declare, when I can't stand the view of that vicious mutt any longer.

Peeta turns towards me and nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. I don't want to be presumptuous but I feel like that smile is there because I am there. "Shall I place my order on some kind of meat?" he asks when I don't seem to move.

"I'd like you to come with me," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Peeta frowns, probably trying to understand if I am joking after all. When he finally convinces himself that I am serious he decides that this conversation doesn't seem complete without a joke anyway. "So, no meat at all, today?"

I can't help smiling a little. That is something that I love about him, he knows his limits and doesn't mind them. He knows he is as subtle as an elephant when he walks around and that he is not a good hunter at all, but still, he has the certainty that he has so many others good qualities that it doesn't matter if there flaws as well. For a moment none of us says anything, then he stands up from the stool where he was sitting and walk to me. "I'd love to go with you, Katniss," he says, undoing the knot of the apron he has taken the habit to wear when he is painting, and follows me in our room. I don't think there is anything he can wear amongst his clothes that one could say, _Yes, that is spot on for hunting, good job, Peeta_. So, I just pick something comfortable enough for him to walk in the woods. He doesn't complain about anything, not even when the pants I choose get caught into his artificial leg.

When we walk downstairs, the door burst open and Greasy Sae walks in as we pass her on our way out. "We are going hunting," I say lightly, I know I am smiling even though I don't know why.

She looks at me and then at Peeta and shakes her head muttering something about love and stupid and young and blind. I don't care. I think I would have in the past, but I feel much bigger than that now. We walk through the Meadow and the Seam, I want to get out the way I have always done. There is no electricity in the fence and we are on the other side without even noticing. I am dragging him, I didn't even notice, but now in the silence of the woods, I can feel his ragged breathing and I know his leg must be of some discomfort to him, even though he never mentions it. I don't stop, not even when I've reached the rendezvous place that I used with Gale. I want to show Peeta something else. I stop only when the lake is well visible in front of us. I don't think he has ever been in the woods, I know for sure that he has never seen the lake. I drag him for a few more yards until we reach the hut where so many memories are kept. My father, Gale, the Capitol girls that were about to go to 13. It hurts a bit to be there, but that is when I am glad Peeta is with me.

The day is glorious, and we decide to sit outside. Peeta is lying on the grass and I have my head on his lap. I don't mind that if I close my eyes I am back to the roof of the Training Centre in the Capitol. Even though I despise that city with all my might, that is one of the happiest memories of my whole life and I stop wondering why when I remember that Peeta was there to share that moment.

"So this is how you hunt?" he asks after a while. "And to think I imagined you day after day fighting with your bare hands against a wild dog or taking down a deer with a single shot of your bow."

I punch him playfully in his good leg. "I am hunting memories today," I say, trying to sound cheerful. Somehow I fail. Not very good at pretending, am I?

"As long as memories don't hunt you," he replies simply.

I close my eyes and think about what he is saying, as always he is right. Doesn't it annoy him to be always right? It would annoy me, that is why I am always wrong, to add some variety to my life. "No, they can't hunt me if you are here."

I tell him everything. About my father, about the plant I was named after, about Gale and his kiss – I see him stiffen up when I do, but I try to be as quickly as possible to change the subject – about the girls. I know I want him to know everything I do. I want to share everything with him. And I want him to share everything with me. So he tells me about his family, about his witch of a mother (even though these are not his words and my mother would not approve of me talking about the deaths in this way) and his father after whom he took his kindness. I remember what he told me about his father wanting to marry my mother, and I wonder what kind of offspring that union would have generated. I am suddenly glad that didn't happen.

When I raise my head and decide it is time to go I cannot believe my eyes. I grab my bow and before Peeta can even start making any sound at all, my arrow is flying right in the direction of a deer. Let's see tonight who's going to shake her head Greasy Sae!

When we bring it back to the village, on Peeta's shoulders, as he insists, everybody is looking at us with confusion. They are used to see me with such an animal, but not the Baker as everybody calls Peeta. Greasy Sae is over the moon and suggests that we go hunting together more often. Probably she is right, because while we were there, in the proximity of each other, I noticed that a couple of times we had just stopped breathing, too caught in the emotion to even do that. We had to be more invisible than rocks at that moment. When I hunt alone I know I keep breathing and that is really of no help at all. Maybe we can really hunt together after all.

After our shower, Peeta is already in the kitchen, baking cheesy buns for me to go with the stew that Greasy Sae is cooking on the stove. We are only using half of the animal, but still we have more than enough for the five – Haymitch joins us after I throw him a bucket of water and ice and he throws a knife at me – of us.

"Let me get this straight," he says, washing down a spoonful of stew with half a glass of liquor. "You and Peeta hunted this?"

I nod, stuffing my mouth with more stew.

"Pee-taa," he says, "are you sure you didn't mean, I don't know, Butt-ter-cup?"

I roll my eyes emphatically . "We are a very good team," I say, smiling at Peeta.

"Well, she is," says Peeta, grabbing my hand on the table, "she can get an animal right in the eye."

"And you can throw bags of flour around," I say simply.

Haymitch pretends to puke in his napkin, or maybe he is really puking, depending on his level of drunkenness. "Do you even hear yourselves?" he blurts out, finishing his glass.

Greasy Sae shuts him up before we can't reply anything, she asks him if he has never been young and in love himself. We all have to get out of the kitchen when she starts telling us about her first love and the spicy description of their bodies entangled in the steam of the night is too much for us. Somehow I know that Haymitch wasn't talking about our being in love. I know that those were the exact same words we exchanged during our trainer before the Hunger Games. I guess that, after all, memories can hunt you all right, no matter who you are with.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** And then I noticed it, I really didn't know what to write in these Author's Notes anymore. Oh, yes, there'll be a changing on the rating pretty soon. Buckle up!

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**Chapter Two  
**

Today is a big, big, big day. At least, that's what Effie Trinket says as she hops off the train. Yes, indeed she lands not too gracefully, but still, in her high heels shoes, it is a miracle she is not on reaching the ground with some part of her body other than her feet. She looks mostly unchanged from the last time we saw her, but somehow her outfit and her persona in general seem toned down to a more-normal-less-Capitol style. I suppose the Capitol citizens have not been well accepted in their weird attires and curious features by the new wave of people that have invaded the capital of Panem from the Districts. Still, she is wearing a wig, a white one this time, and her dress is more – I don't know – normal, I guess, but her make-up is certainly the most striking thing because we can almost see her actual features and I find myself thinking that she is almost prettier than when she wears makeup.

What I am sure she was not expecting was Peeta and I coming to the train station to meet her. Personally, I am there to see Venia, Flavius and Octavia, who are coming with her, but she can think whatever she wants. Peeta is probably there for her anyway. Also because she is there for Peeta too.

"Katniss!" she exclaims, kissing me on my cheek. "Peeta!" she cries, kissing him too. "It is so nice of you to come and meet me at the station," pipes Effie, while I am looking over her shoulder to see whether my prep team is coming out or not.

"Well, it is so nice of you to come and visit us in District 12," says Peeta, trying hard not to mimicry her Capitol accent which she didn't lose at all.

Effie smiles brightly. "Oh, but I had to come and see my little artist!" she chimes. "Everybody at the Capitol is talking about your beautiful paintings, or at least those you left there while recovering."

Finally I see them, my prep team. They look almost back to their old selves, brightly colorful hair and expressions like those of lost animals who are looking for their owner. They are on me as soon as I wave at them. "Katniss!" I hear my name screamed and then there are hugs and comments on my hair and nails and my eyebrows that grew back on my face. "We have everything we need to make you look gorgeous again," says Octavia. Flavius scolds at her, "Not that you are not gorgeous already," he adds, but lying is not his thing.

"I think I have a couple of hours to spare," I say graciously, not that I really want to go through that torture again, but they seem so eager to beautify me that I can hardly refuse them. It might also be a good time to get some unofficial news about the Capitol. Not that I mind too much, but I am curious as to how much it has changed.

They push me towards my house in the Victors' Village and I am surprised at how well they remember the way. After all, though, they were here only a few months ago, naturally that seems ages to me. My room becomes the beauty centre once more and amongst a waxing – that they felt it was necessary – and scrubs, they tell me the most juicy news of the Capitol. Not that mind terribly about the fact that wigs are going to be so out next season or about the new singing contest that Plutarch is going to launch in the fall.

"Oh, and guess what Katniss?" Flavius is absolutely overwhelmed and I feel some of my hair being pulled a bit too hard. "I am going to District Four for the holidays!"

I am not sure if it is for the fact that he says "I" (I have never even thought about the possibility of the three of them having private and separate lives) or for the actual piece of information.

"People are going to the Districts for the holidays?" People have holidays? But I guess they do in the Capitol and they have always done.

"Oh yes," says Octavia, "I think it's a wonderful idea to bring the country together. So many people are going to come to District 12."

Flavius coughs a little. "You don't mind if I don't, right Katniss? It is just that I've already been to District 12 more than any other District and I really wanted to go to the beach… and the overall appearance of 12 is so depressing…"

"Then why people would like to come here?" I ask, not bothered at all by his description of my home. Hordes of tourists in District 12 is just what I would not like.

Venia gives a shrilly laugh. "Because of you, Katniss," she says, mercilessly tearing hair after hair from my eyebrows. "And because of Peeta and his paintings too. Everybody wants to see you two."

I must have groaned because there is a chorus asking me if they have pulled too hard, filed too deep or waxed my skin in with the hair. I didn't even know that could happen and don't want to think about it at that moment, I just make a mental note to never let anyone wax me again. I shake my head and think at the tourists. Probably it is not that bad after all. Probably it is because of the expected tourists that they are building new things in the District and cleaning up the streets, making this place alive again. And Peeta and I can always leave the moment they arrive. I am sure that Haymitch will be a wonderful host and will answer any questions they might have about us.

When I am finally released from the torture I volunteered for, we all go downstairs. I find Peeta in the kitchen, baking cinnamon rolls for us all I guess. "Effie?" I ask as I can't see her anywhere.

"She thinks our house is fantastic, and is so thrilled that she can call it our house," he replies, absolutely not even trying to restrain himself from using a fake and hilarious Capitol accent. "She says she wants to represent me, something like my escort all over again, but this time not towards the Games, but towards success." He takes out the rolls from the oven and I grab one without even thinking that they are just boiling hot. Naturally, I let it fall back on the tray with the others and bring my freshly manicured hand to my mouth, sucking my fingers where it hurts the most.

"Are you okay?" asks Peeta concerned. He grabs my hand and, guiding me towards the sink, he pushes it under ice cold water.

"Are you going to the Capitol?" I ask suddenly. I don't even know why I am asking, but I don't have a nice feeling about it.

He looks at me weirdly. "I would never go back to the Capitol, you know that well enough," he says as if he was talking to a child.

"Then what does Effie want?"

"She wants me to go back to the Capitol," he says with a shrug. I don't know why, but I don't feel satisfied enough when he says that he will never go back. "She wants you to go back too," he adds casually.

Do I need to spell out N-E-V-E-R for him? No, probably not, but maybe to Effie… "So where is she?" He doesn't need to reply, because we hear a crash coming from the painting room and when we go and see Effie and the prep team look mortified. And they well should be, their carelessly movements have brought down a whole pile of paintings. "Octavia!" screeches Effie, her painted eyes wide open. "Careful, these are masterpieces!"

Peeta looks at them with unconcern, but I feel a surge of anger. How can they rummage through Peeta's work as if they had all the right in the world to do so? I don't know how Peeta can be so calm and that angers me even more. "What are you doing?" I ask, my voice a bit too dry to be pleasant. "That is Peeta's private life, you should not fumble through his works like that!" I try to tear a painting of the arena of the Quarter Quell from Venia's hands – she is the closer to me – but something holds me back. Peeta's hands on my shoulders, strong and warm, and I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he is firmly dragging me towards the kitchen again. I can see some crestfallen faces in the painting room as I scream that they have no heart.

"Katniss, it's all right," says Peeta softly, when we are standing in the kitchen alone. "I told Effie they could take as many as they want." Peeta is now right in front of me, his hands on my upper arms. I look at him with even more fury.

"Why would you do that?" I say coldly. "Why do you let them control you again?"

"Control me?" he says a bit taken aback. "I merely told them they could take some pictures for the new museum they are going to build in the Capitol. Some others are going to sell."

"That's your life Peeta!" I cry, and tears threaten to form at the corner of my eyes. I am very good pushing them back though. I have done that for years now. "They are going to exploit your life and your fears." I know perfectly well that painting is his therapy and that it helps him to get rid of his nightmares and all the bad memories we have piled up since we were 16.

Peeta's blue eyes, if possible, become even kinder. He pulls me towards himself and hugs me tightly and I feel like I don't really want him to let me go. Ever. "They are just paintings, Katniss," he says in the most soothing voice he can muster. "I don't mind if they take them, I don't need them anymore." He is stroking my back and I can smell cinnamon in his hair and on his neck too. "I paint them because I need to get rid of what they represent in my mind, I suppose it will only be an improvement if Effie helps us get rid of them from our house too."

I think about his words. I started to understand a few months back that if I want to win an argument with Peeta, then I don't have to let him speak at all. His words make sense, as always, and I can't help feeling a bit bad for the way I treated Effie and the prep team. Plus, if he didn't want them to take his paintings I don't think he would have permitted it. That was not an excess of kindness. He knows what he is doing perfectly well.

"You mean I have to apologize to Effie?" I groan, pressing my face in his neck.

Peeta chuckles. "You don't have to," he whispers, "but it would be nice."

I don't want to apologize to Effie, not at this very moment, that would mean I have to move away from Peeta. But a chorus of more or less hushed "awwws" disrupts the moment, so we let each other go and I reluctantly turn to face them.

Octavia is looking at us dreamingly, Flavius and Venia are on the verge of tears. Tears of joy I suppose. Effie is placing some paintings against the wall of the kitchen. She looks at me, a little bit unsure about what she might say, she is not at fault and she knows it, but she doesn't want to sound too smug when she talks to me. "Peeta said we could take some," she says in her Capitol accent.

"Yeah," I reply slowly, "I didn't know." Which is true and I am happy that I have at least a minuscule excuse for my behavior. "I'm sorry I screamed at you," I add quickly, hopefully too quickly for her to understand.

As always, graciously is the best adjective with which I can describe the way she accepts my excuses. "Well, I guess we have been a bit brusque ourselves with all this urgency about the paintings." She turns towards the prep team and asks Flavius if he can be a gentleman and call someone from the train to come and get the paintings. I am engulfed in a weird sort of merry-go-round of hugs and goodbyes as my prep team disappear out of the door. See? That's why I can't conceive them as three separate beings.

"I love your paintings, Peeta, they are so… dramatic," she says a bit too cheerfully. "Now," she adds, looking at a piece of paper in her hands, "we better go. We are just too late with our schedule." She doesn't seem to mind too much, though, since she is just smiling as she gives directions to some people that have come to collect the paintings. "I will just go and say hi to Haymitch," she adds. "Peeta, Katniss," she continues as if she was going to say the most important thing in the world. "We'll phone." She kisses us both and leaves.

The moment Effie is out of our door, Peeta lets out a groan. "My cinnamon rolls! I baked them for Effie and your prep team and I forgot to give them to them."

"Oh, that's terrible," I joke, "I suppose we will have to eat them all." I grab one with my burnt hand and suddenly remember that it still hurts, once again a roll rolls back on the tray. Peeta is more amused than concerned this time.

"Why don't you bring some to Effie while she is at Haymitch's?" he suggests placing some of the rolls on a nicer paper tray.

"I don't want to disturb them," I lie, sitting at the table across from where he is packing rolls.

"I think both of them will be happy to be disturbed, probably finding the reunion a bit embarrassing." He pushes the tray in front of me and laughs quietly when I roll my eyes and grab it.

I stand up and glare at Peeta, but he just smiles back at me and I feel like I could melt a bit. I walk past Buttercup and open the door, both for me and for the men that are taking the paintings with them. They wave goodbye and I can hear some of them saying something about the _mockingjay_ and the _girl on fire _under their breath. I ignore them. The cinnamon rolls smell so good in my hands and I can't wait to give them to Effie. I know Peeta didn't send me out of laziness, but because my effort of saying I'm sorry to her was just not strong enough.

When I reach Haymitch's kitchen window I can hear something, probably a bottle, smashing and people speaking out loud. I can't hear what they are saying exactly, but here and there I get a high pitched tone from Effie or a growl from Haymitch. I consider my options, do I want to be in the middle of a discussion that will probably resolve like every other discussion they have always had, with one of them stomping out? The answer is no, so I decide to peer through the dusty windowpane and see when Effie is finally storming out of the house so as to meet her on the front. I stand on my toes and look inside. They are arguing all right, screaming at each other with all their might. Effie's wig is all messy. Haymitch's face is all red. I decide that I don't want to intrude any longer and slip down against the wall of the house. After a good fifteen minutes, the front door opens and I almost expect their cries to spread into the air like dust. Instead everything is quiet, except for Effie's heels on the tiles of the path that leads to the gate.

"Effie," I call as I try to catch up with her. She is definitely going faster than I would ever be able to if I were wearing that kind of shoes. She turns and the look on her face is undecipherable. For me at least. She tries to reposition her wig, but I suppose she doesn't know what part she should be moving it without a mirror and the effect is just comical.

"Peeta baked these for you," I say, pushing the tray in her hands. I look at her looking at the rolls and notice that her lipstick is all smeared and her eyes are not really focusing, nothing new there, right? I suppose Haymitch has tried to offer her something to drink and she has accepted out of politeness and they started fighting at that moment, probably about a comment on the cleanliness of the house. Or of the glass he offered her. I don't remember any clean glass in that house.

She regains her composure while I am still looking at her. "Well, isn't he a darling?" She smiles. "I will make sure that these will be given out to people at the Capitol. And let them know that it was Peeta who baked this." She smiles at me and disappears towards the station. Do I want to check on Haymitch? I can't hear anything, but it's that time of the year when he is always drunk, so I assume he is passed out somewhere and not that Effie had tried to kill him. Oh well, Peeta would check, so I just push the door open and call for him.

Weirdly enough there is a reply.

"I didn't know it was reunion day," he says, walking in front of the hall where I am standing, a glass in his hands. He downs half of the amber liquid and collapses on the couch.

"Is everything okay? Effie looked quite upset," I say, looking around and trying to understand if anything at all had been thrown by an angry Effie or Haymitch.

"Everything is splendid, sweetheart," he replies, not even looking at me.

"Haymitch…"

"What?!"

"There's lipstick on your glass," I say, pointing to it. He clearly took the one he offered Effie. "Maybe if you let Greasy Sae clean something in here, Effie wouldn't be so distressed every time she comes to visit."

He looks at me and raises an eyebrow quizzically, then he waves me goodbye and I hear him snoring even before I reach the door. Outside, I run back to the house because the big grey clouds that are coming from the woods can only carry rain.

When I walk into the kitchen, Peeta is still there. "Effie says…" My voice trails away, she didn't really say thank you, did she? "…that you are a darling."

He smiles softly, he is already making cheese buns for me, but now the rolls are cool and my hand is not hurting anymore, so I finally manage to grab one and bring it to my mouth without burning anything. I want to go hunting again, but I was right and the rain starts to pour down, I imagine Effie and the others hurrying towards the train and hope that the paintings are already in their carriage. If they are ruined it will be my personal pleasure to scream at Effie.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:** Do I have to be honest like a kiss on the lips or like a barefoot run (sorry, was looking what honest is like on Google and that it what came out)? It is a bit distressing not to have reviews (almost) at all.. I understand that the Hunger Games fandom is much smaller than the Harry Potter one, but still.. I am not so used to this! Come on, unleash your imagination and review this already... Sure, that is stupid coming from me, since I am not writing for the glory, but rather out of necessity, but I like to have reviews. They make me feel good. And reviews are love..

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**Chapter Three  
**

The woods are silent today. I thought the temperature was too cold for hunting, but just a few yards after the fence I spotted two rabbits and a wild turkey. I didn't shoot them though. Considering the amount of game I saw I decide that this would have been the perfect day for me to have Peeta as a hunting partner, I would have managed to get something in the bag even with his noisy steps behind me. I didn't invite him though. I didn't even tell him that I was coming here this morning. I know will worry the moment he notices I am gone. Not because he thinks that wherever I am or whatever I'm doing, I don't know how to take care of myself. I think we made that clear enough in the past three years. No. He knows that I am upset and that he is the cause. What he doesn't know is that I am upset and he is not the cause. I am the cause.

I reach the lake and strip of everything I am wearing. It is chilly, every day it is getting chillier and chillier, but I really don't care today. I dive into the lake, I am proud of myself because I am sure that I am no worse than someone from District Four. I dive and open my eyes underwater. For a moment everything seems clear, everything is quiet and makes sense. It was in these same woods that I said out loud what I think. Surely, it was not the first time that I thought it, but it was here that I voiced my thoughts out loud to Gale.

I don't want to have children.

At first I thought it was because of the Games, but now that there are no Games anymore, I just think that this world is too flawed to even consider bringing a life into it. Maybe if I were born centuries into the future, in a world where I have never been hungry, alone, desperate or on the verge of dying for someone's pure entertainment, I could think about give someone heirs. But this is not the case now. The very thought of it scares me to death.

I have to come up for air, but after I have taken some long breaths and relaxed, I dive again. The water is muddy and every time I open my eyes they hurt. But I want to see things around me, I don't like to be where I have no idea of what awaits me.

I think of Peeta and of this morning. Granted, it is getting colder and colder, especially in the mornings, and it is exactly for that that I snuggle closer to him, but that doesn't mean that I am not happy with the sleeping arrangements that we have been having so far. He hugs me in the evening and I manage to fall asleep and sleep through the night with a really small amount of nightmares. We kiss. We spoon and do all the things that couples usually do. Everything, except _that_ thing.

I am not afraid, and even though they say that the first time it usually hurts rather than it being pleasant – for a girl at least – I am sure it will never be worse than whatever happened to me in the past. Burnt, cut, strangled. I am sure I can take a bit of pain that every other girl has taken. It is not even a question of love. I love Peeta and there is nothing I wouldn't do for him. But I just can't.

I come up once again and this time I stay on the surface, with my nose and my eyes out and my mouth under water. I don't want to scream for the frustration, not in the woods at least.

I replay my conversation with Peeta. Our kisses, our hearts beating furiously, his hands on me going south, following the curves of my body. I can feel him on my back. Hard, raw, almost embarrassing. He nuzzles at my neck and I can feel his hands trying to hook down my pants. I have a weird feeling at the bottom of my stomach, like when I miss a step. Only, it is kind of pleasant as it keeps going on, even now that I am thinking about it.

"_Peeta, no!"_ I whisper urgently, and he stops immediately. I think he is taken aback, maybe hurt by my refusal, but he doesn't understand.

"_I love you, Katniss," _ he breaths against my ear. _"Trust me."_

Why should I trust him with this I don't know. Has he had a girl before me? Probably he had. The very thought of it makes me mad with jealousy, so I push it at the back of my head. _"I trust you, but…just not yet…" _

He is silent, absolutely petrified. He is not forcing me into anything, but I am sure that in his head he is thinking what a horrible person he is. I roll in his direction and away from him, giving me some space to look at him in the eyes.

"_What's wrong?" _he whispers, looking right back at me.

What's wrong I know too well. With famines, diseases and executions, the population of Panem has always been of great concern for our dear President Snow. Teach the masses how to procreate and continue the species, that was the mission of the compulsory hour of sexual education we had everything week. My least favorite subject ever. I hated how they portrayed something so private in such a cynical way. Naturally, they didn't teach us how to prevent a pregnancy, but only how to conceive in the best way possible.

"_I don't want to have children," _I say, looking at him straight in the eyes. I try to keep my voice even and not to let out any emotions.

He seems a bit taken aback, as if he doesn't recollect me saying anything like this before, or even if he had, he looks like he hasn't thought I was serious enough, or that once the war was over, I would have changed my mind. The question leaves my lips before I can stop myself, _"Do you?"_

He is trying hard not to let any emotion appear on his face, but his eyes, which are as clear as the sea, say that deep inside, he can see himself with a child at some point of his life. _"I guess," _he replies softly. As if he knows that his eyes are betraying his emotions he closes them and shakes his head slightly to clear his ideas. _"But I am not thinking about children now, Katniss. I am thinking about you and me."_ He opens his eyes again and stretches his hand to touch my hair, he pulls a lock behind my ear and says, _"I love you." _Then he adds, _"Real."_

I grab his wrist and keep his hand over my face as I turn slowly and kiss his palm. Then I move it away and lean in to kiss him. _"I love you too." _A huge improvement since the moment when Gale told me that he loved me and I said that I knew. Learning from my mistakes. I'm proud of myself.

We don't say anything else. We barely breath, but none of us gets back to sleep. Peeta is hugging me, and I have my face hidden in his chest, I like to follow his body going up and down with its breathing. Then the morning comes, he has to go and bake some bread for the people who are coming to live in District 12 and I just disappear as soon as he is in the kitchen.

I get out of the water and notice that, if possible, it is even colder than before. Weirdly enough, the water is almost warm, or probably it's my body that got used to that temperature. The trees are losing their leaves already and the wind starts blowing viciously. I grab my clothes, that I had the great idea of placing under a rock, and get to the hut. All I need is fire to dry my skin and my hair before I get back home. I admit that I know very little about healing and curing people, but one thing that I have learned at my own expenses is that you should not go around in cold like I have just done – naked and wet. Better to get dry really soon and go back.

xxx

And naturally, yes. I do catch the worst flu ever. I can't smell, food loses its flavor, I shiver all the time and I can't keep anything in my stomach. My body reaches temperatures that I couldn't think possible and I can't make out dreams from reality. I am aware of Peeta sitting next to me for most of the time. He speaks to me and his voice is incredibly deep or incredibly high, slow and fast, distorted. I look at him but don't understand a word he says. Greasy Sae comes too and helps me drinking plenty of fluids. I have a clear imagine of Haymitch towering over me at some point, but I don't know if he is actually there. There are trees all around him and mockingjays are singing every time he speaks so I don't know what he is saying.

I wake up and then fall asleep and then wake up again and feel like I haven't slept at all. I feel nauseated every time I try to lift my head, Peeta's hands had never felt stronger than now. He lifts me, he makes me take an ice cold bath, he keeps my hair from my face when I vomit in the bathroom. He makes me feel like I am made of thin paper.

I feel like the fever has gone on for years, but as soon as my mother comes into the room and empties the whole inside of a syringe into my veins and I regain a sense of normality, I am informed that I have been like this for three days.

"Just three days?" I ask weakly. "Are you sure? I feel like I have been on this bed forever."

My mother smiles and I finally get a glimpse of her after all the time we have been apart. She looks much more beautiful than I have ever seen her. Her blonde hair gathered in a tidy braid, her face and hands scrubbed and her green dress is just beautiful.

"Peeta called me two days ago," she says, taking a seat next to my bed. "Beside himself, the poor boy. He found you passed out near the fence."

I try to think and remember, but after I have left the hut in the forest everything is blurred and confused. I don't remember reaching home.

"He tended to you non-stop for three days."

I look around to see if he is there, but we are alone.

"I sent him off to bed," my mother replies as if reading my thoughts. "He was absolutely crushed by the fact that your fever was so high for so long. He didn't know what to do, didn't eat nor sleep. Just stayed at your side all the time."

I feel a headache kicking in. "I know he's a caring and kind person," I say.

"He loves you," my mother say gently.

"And I love him," I reply so softly I hope she doesn't get it. It doesn't make me comfortable to talk to my mother about this.

"Peeta told me what happened before you ran away," she goes on shamelessly. Today is probably my least favorite day ever. I wake up delirious and have a conversation with my mother about boys and sex. Nothing could make this day more special.

I groan. "Really?"

She nods, opens her bag that I just now notice – real doctor's bag, like the ones they had at the Capitol – and take out a medium size glass jar, like the ones Peeta uses to keep his sugar flowers for the cakes he frosts. Inside there are thousands of dried, little leaves, black in color and round in shape, all crumpled together and half broken.

"This are Silphium leaves," she says, opening the tap and letting some of them falling on her palm. They are odorless. "You put one of these in a glass of water and let it melt, once the water turns greenish you drink it." She puts the leaves back into the jar and closes it. "Every day at the same time. Drink this for the rest of your life and the Mellark-Everdeen family will be extinct after you and Peeta." She looks at me with something in her eyes. Hope? "If you change your mind, just stop drinking it. Effect is immediate."

I don't really know what to say. My mother is talking to me like a doctor would talk to a patient, but still, the whole conversation about contraceptives methods make me feel more than uncomfortable. I can hear Peeta's voice echoing in my mind. _"You are so pure, Katniss." _Sorry, if I don't go around talking about these things to everybody.

I feel my headache getting more acute. "I think I need another syringe of that thing you gave me," I tell my mother.

"You do," she replies, matter-of-factly, "but you have to wait twelve hours for the next shot. Same thing for the other three shots."

I feel even worse than before. "You mean that I am not miraculously cured?"

"Not yet."

My mother organizes the upcoming two days with a tight schedule. Effie would be so proud of her. She and Peeta alternate at my bed with four-hour-shifts, but somehow my mother always disappears right after my injections, leaving me alone with Peeta in the half hour of lucidity that whatever my mother is giving me – I trust her enough not to ask – grants me. I am still a bit irritated with him because of his absolute candor with my mother. I suppose and hope that he asked her for her medical opinion.

The first time I am awake and lucid is slightly awkward for both of us, not knowing where to start. I am not the talker anyway, but the silence on Peeta's part is more distressing than mine for me. Finally, he raises his eyes from our hands and smiles weakly. "You scared me, Katniss," he says, "you left and never came back. It was the middle of the night when I finally found you." He squeezes my hand. "Passed out in the rain. Hot with fever. I didn't know how long you've been there."

His words hurt. I feel like I am the cause of someone's misery all over again.

"I'm sorry if I did something that you didn't like," he adds.

And his words are killing me now.

"Peeta," I call his name feebly. I want to explain, but first of all I want him to do is stop talking. "You didn't do anything," I say reassuringly, "and I didn't want to do anything drastic, I just went to the lake to swim and… I guess it was too cold and got sick too suddenly and just couldn't make it home." I take a deep breath, thinking that this wouldn't have happened back in the days. I must still be weak from the war which only ended months ago.

"Why would you go swimming with this cold?" he asks as if he would like to add how silly I am.

That is a good question. "I just needed to think things through."

"You were upset."

"Maybe," I say vaguely.

"With me," he replies and it's not a question.

I jump at the occasion. "Not real," I say quickly. "With me." I take a deep breath and find out that my ribcage hurts a little. "I love you and I want to be with you, but I was scared." I stretch my hand towards the jar and tap my fingers on it. "My mother brought me contraceptive leaves." I shoot him a dirty look. "Because apparently someone had told her everything about what happens in our bedroom."

"She is a doctor. Doctors know best," he says defensively.

"Anyway," I continue, "as soon as I get better I can't see why we should not try them out." I start fidgeting a little, talking about it only makes it worse for me, but I have to ask. "Have you ever…" I raise my eyebrows and look straight at him.

"Oh, yes. Let me see." He is counting on his fingers. "Exactly, never."

I feel a bit reassured. "Not even Delly?" I tease him.

"Right! I forgot about Delly, it was a hot summer evening…"

"Peeta!" I say with all my forces. For the first time, I feel something that I only felt with Gale. I am jealous. I have never thought Peeta could think that way of anybody else in the world but me. I wish he is joking.

"What? Oh, sorry, are you the only one who can tease here?" he says, laughing.

"Yes," I pout. I have never pouted in my whole life and it feels strange, it must be the fever coming back, "because I am sick." Then something dawns in my mind. "Don't you want to know if I have ever been with anybody at all?" I ask offended, he thinks I am a total inexperienced person when it's up to love stuff. The fact that he is right is irrelevant.

He shakes his head. "I don't want to know," he says. Obviously he thinks he knows everything already and I know that the name he is thinking about is Gale. I am too tired and too dizzy now to tell him that I have never done anything but kissing him. I sink into the bed and pat a spot next to me. My eyes are already heavy with the raising fever, but I see Peeta lying next to me. I snuggle closer to him and he hugs me. I start babbling something, I feel drunk and he laughs softly at me. But I don't know why and soon it doesn't matter as I slid back to oblivion.

xxx

My mother says that she had injected me with an experimental drug that should cure flu, cough and other basic but annoying illnesses in half the time normal drugs do. In fact, if she had come straight away I would have been cured three days earlier.

I walk her to the station and she says that she will come and visit me soon or that I can go to District Four to see her and meet Newell. Who this Newell is remains a mystery, but I am sure she means a fellow doctor. I hug her and she waves from the train until she doesn't disappear. Once she is gone, I hurry back home, Peeta is waiting for me and he makes me eat something solid while I sit on the couch with Buttercup on my lap. We fall asleep watching Plutarch's new singing program with Peeta commenting that none there has a voice that makes the birds stop singing.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note:** Here we go, this chapter is a smutfest, so be warned. And don't tell me I didn't warn you because I did. So get over it. Anybody knows of a good Hunger Games archive where I can post this, btw?

* * *

**Chapter Four  
**

My eyes shift from the green liquid in the glass I have in my hand to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The liquid is definitely inviting, rather than a medicine (which is not anyway), it looks more like a mint ice tea or something of that sort. On the other hand, my reflection is definitely not inviting at all. Weeks have passed since I was sick and I have fully regained my forces: I have been hunting, I have eaten cakes and buns every day (the only plus side on being hill is having Peeta spoiling me) and I have been happy. Everything is fine, except for sleepless nights. I lie there, waiting, minute after minute, for Peeta to make a remark about our sex life – or lack of – and about the Silphium leaves. But, night after night, he just sleeps with his arms tightly around me and chitchats of the silliest things. It is almost more unnerving than having the actual conversation. I suppose he doesn't want to say anything that he thinks it would upset me and then maybe I would leave again.

So, tonight, I decide to take matters into my own hands and… make the move. I would be lying if I said that I don't want to bring our relationship to another level, too, but I try not to think about it and convince myself that I am doing everything for Peeta. The thumping of my heart and the butterflies in my stomach don't really allow that thought. I don't know, I think I was less nervous when I had to appear in front of all the people of the Capitol on a chariot in a dress on fire.

My hand grasps the glass with all its might and I notice little ripples on the surface as I bring it closer to my face. I'm shaking a little.

"Enough nonsense, Katniss Everdeen," I scold at my reflection. "What are you afraid of?" I can't reply to my own question, so I look even more harshly at myself and down the liquid in one gulp. It's not only odorless, but also tasteless. As if I were drinking plain water. A bit of me is deluded, I hoped it tasted like mint. I really don't feel any change, I don't feel better or worse than before, don't feel as if my womb has been dried of anything fertile or as if I might just vomit at any minute. I feel like nothing has changed. But something must have had, because my mother would never give me something she is not confident about.

I put the glass back on the sink and walk out of the bathroom and into the room. Peeta is sitting on the bed, writing thoughtfully in a book on his lap. He is writing a cake recipe book at the moment. Baking, drawing, writing. I feel like I am not doing anything all day long except hunting every now and then, while he is just doing everything and more. He doesn't even raise his eyes from the page he is writing when I walk towards the bed, extremely focused on the little words he is neatly writing.

I take a deep breath. "Those Silphium leaves don't taste like anything," I say, waiting for his reaction, which is immediate because his eyes darts from the page to my face.

"Silphium?" he asks weakly. "The ones your mother brought?"

I nod slowly.

"Okay," he says, closing the book and placing it on the bedside table. He is absolutely calm, and I envy him at this very moment.

I sit on the other side of the bed. "So, yes," I start, turning towards him with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, "I guess that if you want… I mean we can do you know… if you want to, like you don't have if you don't want to I don't think anything happens if we don't even though I already drunk it because it is all natural and I—"

He kisses me to shut me up and I am only grateful for that. His warm, big hands are at both sides of my face and I really can't believe there was a time when I wanted to save him and thought he needed my protection, because now he is making me feeling like I am the one who needs safety.

"Shut up, Katniss," he says softly against my lips and his tone is not harsh, but I like him taking charge of the situation and now that he has shut me up I can't stop thinking. He starts planting kisses all over my face, soft pecks with his lips that leave my mouth free to talk again.

"I love you, Peeta," I say with my hands on his wrists.

"I love you too," he replies, between kisses.

"I have waited so long, too, you know," I say weakly, "not just you, even though you must think that I—"

He kisses me again on my lips. "I know," he says when he moves back.

I feel really scared all of a sudden. "I don't know how to…" my words trail away and die in my throat.

He smiles. "We'll manage." He starts kissing me again, lightly. Then his mouth moves towards my chin and he trails my jaw with his tongue. When his lips finally find my neck, I feel a throbbing at the bottom of my stomach. I take a sharp breath and move my hands to his face, pressing it against my neck.

He starts licking and sucking on the sensitive skin and my breathing increases with his ministrations.

"Does this feel good?" he asks smiling against my skin.

I nod, quite breathlessly. "Don't stop now," I say, urging him to continue when he moves back.

He smiles again, as if he likes the fact that I am liking this more than I intended. His hands go on my waist, he grabs the hem of the white tee-shirt that I usually wear in bed and eases it slowly over my torso, chest, bare breasts and shoulders, until it is over my head and on the floor.

He looks at me for an excruciatingly long moment, then I feel his fingers on my ribs, slowly tracing them up to my breasts. He grabs them, firmly, his thumbs caress my nipples. Then it is all a twirl of sensations and feelings and butterflies for me. He kisses me and pushes me on my back, hooks his fingers in my pajamas bottoms and push them down my legs. I try to do the same with his, but he is faster than I am and soon they are both lying in a corner of the bed, an entangled mass that mimics our bodies.

My body is squeezed under Peeta's and I can't fully expand my ribcage to breath, but I love it anyway. I love the feeling of his skin against my skin, of his muscles over my chest, of the way his legs move between mine, a little bit awkwardly, as we both try to make sense of what is happening and try to figure everything out. But those things do come naturally, so he hooks his hand behind my knee and brings it up. I can feel him at my entrance. He looks at me straight in the eyes and enters me. Slowly at first, his clouded eyes probably trying to understand if I want to stop or if I am in pain or upset or anything in between. I am not, none of the above. All I want is more proximity, I want it to go on, I want him to push into me as far as he can go, I want more.

I can't wait for him to move, so I hook my leg behind his calf and push my lower abdomen up, towards him. When he let out a moan, I can't help but smiling, even though somehow there is a subtle pain down there, I feel it is nothing compared to the other feelings. Peeta's breath is ragged as he pushes himself up to look at me. He is surprised I got so playful all of a sudden, or that's what I think. I grin, but my breath is ragged too when I speak. "Waiting for one, two, three, go, Mr. Mellark?" I ask as I tease him with my toes on the back of his leg.

Peeta smiles softly. "Look at you all sassy," he says and, without notice, starts a rhythmic pounding which has the power to shut the both of us up.

There is something unique about the way he moves on top of me. Not that anybody has ever moved on top of me, but I just can't stop looking at his muscles tensing up then relax, at his face all screwed in concentration and at the sweat on his forehead. I find every detail mesmerizing, as if I am watching him for the first time. In a way it's almost as if I am. And then there is the butterflies, they have moved south, I can feel them everywhere, at least where our bodies join and all around that area. Every sensation, every thrust is amplified and I feel like something is building inside of me. And I am right. A few more thrusts and I feel that same something exploding in me. It feels so good, I can't speak, I can't move, I can't see anything but my eyelashes. Then Peeta grunts and his thrusts become less urgent but deeper. And then he falls on top of me and doesn't seem able to move ever again. He is still inside of me throughout the long moments where all we can hear are each other's pants and gasps for more air than we can get. He has his cheek on my shoulder and my temple is on his head, his hands on my arms, my eyes are wide open, but my view is still clouded. He moves back a bit and looks into my eyes, his lips parted as he tries to gulp down more oxygen. I raise my head and kiss him, ravenously, like I don't think I have ever kissed him. He kisses me back just as intensely, then pushes himself off me and exits me with no effort at all. He falls on my side on his back like me and for a while we stare at the ceiling. When I push myself closer to him, he hugs me and pulls me against his chest, I hug him back and I love the proximity. Our bodies are sweaty and hot, and I feel half drunk and half sleepy.

Peeta grunts to conceal a chuckle.

"What are you thinking?" I ask him, my voice low and more sensual than usual.

Peeta plants a kiss on my head and hugs me even tighter. "I am thinking that I love you," he replies, "so, so much." I know that he knows that I am smiling. "What are _you_ thinking?" he asks back.

I push my head on his chest and hear the furious thumping of his heart that is slowly trying to go back to normal. "I am thinking that I am going to drink Silphium leaves every night," I say matter-of-factly, and that makes Peeta laugh.

xxx

At breakfast, I think it is virtually impossible for Greasy Sae not to notice that something is different about us, and in fact she does notice. At first, I think it is because I have changed overnight, that I am a woman now and everybody can see it. But probably Greasy Sae's comment about something weird isn't just because I went to bed as a girl and woke up as a woman, but because of the hickey on my neck that I have not even tried to conceal. It is black and blue and bigger than my thumb when I try to cover it. Well, good job, Peeta.

"It was cold last night, wasn't it?" she asks as she places two plates of bacon and eggs in front of Peeta and me.

"I didn't notice," I say, pushing my fork into a piece of egg.

"I bet you didn't," she murmurs, with a smirk on her face. I think she wants to add something about us finally doing something, but she restrains herself. I think she never believed I was pregnant during the Quarter Quell and knows fair more things that I am comfortable about.

Now, in the light of day, in the kitchen, with Greasy Sae chattering about what is going on in the village and her granddaughter speaking to herself, I don't feel as sassy as last night and I am just happy when nobody mentions the hickey and Peeta doesn't try any loving effusions.

After breakfast, Peeta wants to draw, and I go and see Haymitch. He is sitting outside, a stick in one hand, stale bread in the other. A gaggle of loud and messy geese are looking at him viciously. I walk up to him and the animals pay little attention to me as I sit next to him.

"No alcohol?"

"No alcohol," he replies sourly. "It's that time of the year again."

The geese start to honk and get closer to Haymitch and the bread. One of them, I imagine a male, stretches its wings and flaps them threateningly. Haymitch uses the stick against its neck, quickly but softly, enough to scare it without hurting it.

"Why don't you just give them the bread," I say, feeling bad for those poor animals.

He doesn't look at me, his eyes are fixed on the birds. "They have to learn."

"Learn what? They are geese," I say, shaking my head.

"Learn that they have to wait for the food, not that they can have it whenever they want." Haymitch raises the stick in front of a goose that is coming dangerously close to him and it stops.

"Okay," I say, "what for?"

"I don't want them to come quacking at me in the middle of the night if I forget to feed them," he replies. "Now sit!"

Considering the fact that it is the stupidest thing ever to ask a goose to sit, I decide to laugh it off. "I am sitting," I say in my most amused tone.

Haymitch turns towards me. "Katniss," he says faking a sweet tone, "when you were in that arena fighting for your life and people were interviewing me and asking me what was your skill; what that quality that set you apart from the other tributes, what do you think I replied? Your archery skills? No. Your way of finding a way out of every bad situation? No." He takes a deep breath for some fake emphasis and adds, "I said, her sense of humor, ladies and gentlemen." He screws his eyes and continues, "Hey, what is that on your—"

A goose, probably the same male that was trying to threaten Haymitch earlier, throws itself at the bread and flaps its wings right in Haymitch's face. I manage to jump back just enough to avoid the feathers going right into my mouth, but Haymitch is not as fast. The goose runs away with the bread in its mouth and the gaggle at its heels, honking loudly, but not loud enough to cover my laughter.

"Glad you are enjoying yourself, sweetheart," says Haymitch, standing and shaking feathers from his clothes and hair.

"I love the relationship you have with your geese," I say with mirth.

He comes closer to me and narrows his eyes. "And I love the relationship you have with Peeta, apparently," he says with what I suppose is amusement.

"We—I—we didn't…" The fact that I am stammering doesn't help I guess.

"Sweetheart, don't you worry," he says, patting my head, "you just did what all of Panem think you have already done three years ago. No big deal!"


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note:** Changed the rating of my ff and got a smutty scene up and... have twice the reviews I had before! Granted, that means that I went from 1 to 2, but still..

* * *

**Chapter Five  
**

"I know what you're going to say in a few minutes," says Peeta without raising his eyes from the piece of paper in front of him. He is sketching me while I am sitting on the couch with Buttercup on my lap. The ugly cat and I have become the best of friends in the past months and now I am the first person it usually comes to when it is hungry or scared. Unless you consider Peeta. Or Greasy Sae when she is there. Or her granddaughter. Okay, so probably I am the last person it comes to, but he doesn't hiss at me anymore. That is certainly a plus.

"You do?" I ask without moving, he asked me to stay perfectly still and I proud to say that I have been so far. "_Peeta, I need a break to move my arms._ Is that it?"

He chuckles. "No."

"No to the break or no, is not what I am going to say?"

"No to both, Katniss," he says, looking at me through his blond curls and then back to the paper. "We have only been here for ten minutes."

Only ten? I feel like I have been here for ten hours. "What am I going to say, then?" I ask with a deep sigh that earns me a glare from Peeta since a lock of my hair just fell from behind my ear, upsetting the composition he made with my hair before he started.

"You are going to say," he finally says, standing up from the floor and coming to put my lock behind my ear once again. He coughs and when he speaks again his voice is mockingly high pitched. "Oh, Peeta, why would we have to go through something like that? Everybody thinks we are anyway. We already live here together and are happy and everything and why would we do this? Isn't it as if we already were?"

I frown when he sits back down on the floor. What is he talking about? I am getting vaguely nervous, but I don't want him to know. "First of all, that is not my voice," I say, "second, are you telling me you want children?" My voice is a bit strangled when I say 'children', but that is good, because I don't want to add the word 'again' and I feel like I just might. It wouldn't be the first time he asks about kids, and it wouldn't be the first time I say 'no'.

"No," he replies quietly, even though I guess it hurts him to talk about that.

Inside my head, I sigh in relief, outside I am perfectly still. "So…" I encourage him to go on.

"So…" he starts, "…Katniss, marry me."

I think he chose the perfect moment to ask me something like this, probably plotting this in his mind for days. He got me immobilized under a vicious cat with the excuse of sketching me and he knows perfectly well that at the very sound of the words that he just said out loud I would already be in the woods.

I notice that minutes have passed since he talked only because Peeta is coughing slightly, probably to snap me out of my dangerous thoughts. I look at him and he looks at me. So we just look at each other for a while, but I know it all comes to me now.

"Okay," I say cautiously, "let's say, just for fun, that I say what you said I was going to say. What would you reply?"

Peeta draws my hair with intensity, the noise of the chalk so harsh I think he is going to break the paper. "I would say," he replies trying to sound calm, "that I love you. That I never want to let you go and that nothing would make me as happy as to make you mine."

"You know I am yours," I say instinctively. "And I love you."

He smiles. "Yes, no, I know," he says quickly. "But I just want our union to be official."

"It's been official since your interview before the Quarter Quell," I sigh.

"Katniss," he says in a pained voice. "Marry me."

I swallow to find my mouth completely dry. I don't know why I am hesitating, I am ashamed to admit to myself that since the end of the war, since Peeta and I have been growing back together and lived under the same roof, I have thought about it. About our wedding day. I think the wedding dresses that Cinna had designed would still be accessible to me if I asked. I could have Effie sending them, all except the one that Snow had picked for me. And maybe my prep team could come to beautify me too, and my mother would be happy to have an excuse to see me, and I to see her. And everybody else. And there's Peeta, I do want to marry him. So, so, so much…

"Okay," I spit out before I can help myself.

Peeta looks at me cautiously. "Real?"

"Real," I reply as a smile creeps up on my face. "I want to marry you." I stand up abruptly and Buttercup flies on the floor with a meow of surprise. "Let's do it."

Peeta stands from the floor and towers over me with his three inches he posses more than me. "Let's do it," he replies. He grabs my waist as I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He raises me from the floor and hugs me tightly, attempting to turn on his feet, but with his leg he is only able to get through half a circle before he has to put me back down. "You'll marry me," he cries.

Feeling his excitement and the nervous chuckle that he is trying to suppress, makes me laugh. "I'll marry you," I assure him.

He puts my feet back on the floor. "You know how long I have been waiting for this day?" he asks.

And here we go, his undying love for me since the age of five is back to make me feel guilty. Am I going to find out that he had planned this since the very first time he laid eyes on me? Can I take it? How is he going to take the fact that I have only started thinking about it for a few months? Probably he will be thrilled anyway, probably he expects me to have never wanted this.

"Since we were five?" I say weakly.

Peeta's reaction is not what I expected. He looks at me to see if I am joking and then laughs. At me? "Yes, and I designed the wedding cake and the invitations and wrote Mrs. Katniss Mellark on my diary," he laughs even harder. "No, since when you left and I found you in the rain." He is looking at me lovingly now. "You looked so small and weak. Not that you are," he adds quickly, "but I just wanted to do anything I could to make you feel safe, and I thought that the only way to know that you were always safe was to marry you, because that way, I would have always been at your side."

I feel weird. Deluded that he has thought about marrying me only for – what is that? – a couple of months, whereas I thought, in an extremely arrogantly way, that he has been waiting all his life for this moment. I am baffled that I have been thought about it longer than he has.

"And you?" he asks me. "Have you ever thought about marrying me?"

I feel like I want to get back to him. "Never." But I really can't get back to him for something he didn't do. I smile as he looks a bit uncomfortable. "I'm joking. I thought about it the day you came back to District 12," I admit softly. "And almost every day since." Did I just say that? I might as well start using the phone to call Venia, Flavius and Octavia to talk about makeup and nails.

"Really?" asks Peeta as an annoying smile curls his lips.

"Yes…. What are you grinning about?" I ask without bothering to be annoyed.

"Nothing," he replies, hugging me. "It's just that the girl I have loved since I first saw her has been wanting to marry me for even longer than me…"

xxx

Haymitch looks at the little envelope that Peeta is lending him. "Have you two found a job as postmen or are you stealing my mail?" he asks, putting the glass he was drinking on the table on front of him.

"You don't have mail, Haymitch," I reply, sitting across from him. Peeta sits next to me.

He flaps the envelope under my nose. "I do."

"That's from us," says Peeta, smiling.

Haymitch shoots him a suspicious look. "Is it my birthday?"

"Not that we know of," I say, looking at Peeta, who in return shakes his head lightly. "When is your birthday, anyway?"

He mutters something incomprehensible and opens the envelope. His eyes skim through it and Peeta grabs my hand as if we were sitting through an examination.

"About that," he says when he reaches the end of the wedding invitation. "Mellark is written with two L's."

"Haymitch!" I say irritably.

"Katniss!" he mimics my tone. "What do you want to me to say?"

I roll my eyes. This is so annoying, he is the first person we have decided to tell about the wedding, and the first we are showing the invitation. "Any comments?"

He pretends to think. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I thought you were already married."

Peeta opens his mouth to say something back, I know because I see him with the corner of my eye, but I am quicker and stand up. I put my hands on the table and hiss, "And to think you are the first person we have told!" I push back my chair and walk out of the room and the house, slamming the door. I sit on the steps that lead to Haymitch's front porch and decide that I really want to sulk. Peeta and I have spent a whole month deciding half of the things we have to do for this wedding and wanted Haymitch to help with the other half. How stupid are we, really? He is just going to be useless. Our lives are not at stake, he won't bother helping us. Why am I getting so emotional about this anyway? I knew it all along.

I hear the door opening and closing at my back and I don't even turn. "I hope his geese wake him up every night for the rest of his life," I groan.

"Why, thank you, sweetheart," says Haymitch, sitting next to me. "Very thoughtful of you."

I turn and glare at him, than I decide to turn away without saying anything.

I expect Haymitch to sit there in silence and wait for an annoyed remark from me so that he can give one of his 'funny' comments right back. Instead he is the first to speak. "Peeta said that you were thinking to ask me if I wanted to be the one who gives you away the day of your wedding." His voice is level, and as serious as I have never heard him being.

"Yes," I reply dryly, "come on, tell me." I lower my voice. "How stupid you are, sweetheart," I imitate him. "I am not the right person for this, you know, maybe you should ask Buttercup."

"How can I argue with myself," he mutters, then he doesn't say anything for a long minute, then, after the gaggle of geese decide to walk past us, he adds, "I would really like to give you away." He scratches at his stubble beard. "If you still want me to."

Wow, personal growth; I guess it's never too late for that. I am happy to hear that, but don't want to show too excitement. He doesn't deserve it anyway. "Don't have many people to ask that anyway," I say, shrugging my shoulders and looking at him.

"Guess not," he replies matter-of-factly. "So, I'm back in the wedding?"

I half smile. "Yes, if you help us with all the things we need help with."

"Like sewing you a wedding dress, baking a wedding cake with Peeta and entertaining the guests with my charm?"

I pretend to think. "Hmm… no, no and no. But you can help us with the guest list."

"Okay, first thing: don't invite Paylor, she doesn't like me."

"I wonder why."

"Second thing: you should use your wit to entertain your guests at your wedding, sweetheart."


	6. Chapter Six

**Author's Note: **I got soooo many reviews! What a lovely surprise! Thank you so much... keep them coming! I love them, they make my day. This is a pretty uneventful chapter, but I like it cause I find it funny. Maybe it is not, but I like it anyway. Enjoy! Review!

* * *

**Chapter Six  
**

"Let me get this straight," says Haymitch, picking up the piece of paper in his hands and looking at it with unusual focused eyes. "Me, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, your mother, Annie Odair and son, Effie Trinket, the prep team… I'm sorry, is the prep team part of the guest list or will they be here to work?"

I raise my eyes from the drafts of the invitations that Peeta drew this morning and look at the list that Haymitch is now holding towards me. "I guess both," I reply. "They would want to do it anyway."

"Oh right," says Haymitch, patting his forehead theatrically. "Who wouldn't want to take active part into the wedding of the girl on fire and the boy with bread." He sighs as if to say that he wouldn't mind be left out after all. I suppose he noticed that there is too much work to do and lost his early enthusiasm, which was already quite dim. "Especially considering the fact that they missed the first one."

"Everybody missed the first one," I say matter-of-factly. "Even Peeta and I."

"Right," he continues, "so prep team, guests and makeup artists at the same time…" He writes that on the paper.

"And Effie has to send us the dresses," I remind him, so he writes down 'wedding dress sender person' next to her name.

"Okay, and…" He turns the paper, but can't find any other name on the other side. "…that's all apparently." He nods satisfied. "That is really great, I think Peeta should bake a cupcake for the reception, because honestly, a cake would just be wasted."

"That is not the whole list," I say, "but we need help with the rest of it."

Haymitch looks at me with his eyebrows raised. "Are you just being lazy and want me to be your secretary? Because I warn you, I am lazier than you two put together."

I have to take a deep breath to keep calm. We do need Haymitch, I remind myself that. "No, we need to know something."

"And I know that something?"

"Yes, you have a TV," I reply calmly.

"You do too."

"We don't watch it."

"I see." He bites the pen he has in his hand. "And what makes you think that I watch it?"

"Do you watch it?" I ask.

"I do, but only the news," he replies scruffily.

"That's what we need," I say. Then I take another deep breath and look at him. "Do they talk about Peeta and I at all?" I finally ask.

Haymitch looks at me weirdly. He knows I have always been nauseated by the fact that my distorted private life has been thrown in everybody's face since the Games, so he probably doesn't understand where I want to get with this. "Sometimes," he replies vaguely, "they have documentaries about your life."

Documentaries? That would be unnerving to watch. "Okay and what's the deal between Peeta and me in those documentaries?" I ask a bit unsure if I want to hear the answer or not. "Are we in love? Married? With children? Do they know our love during the games and war was fake?"

Haymitch puts the piece of paper and the pen tidily back on the table, and puts his hands on both sides of them. "First of all, you might not know that, but your love – or at least part of it – was not completely fake. I don't think I would be sitting in your living room helping you organizing your wedding if it were."

I am sure the temperature in the room just raised abruptly because my cheeks are hotter than before.

"Second, you have no children," he adds, "word in town is that you lost your ability to conceive after your miscarriage. But yes, you are still married, and yes, you are madly in love with each other."

"That's what they say in the news?" I ask unconvinced.

"Okay, I might just leave the TV on to keep me company in the middle of the night and end up watching other things too," he grunts, "sorry if I don't have a fiancée like some other people do."

"Nice excuse," I say quickly, "okay, so everybody is still convinced that we are married, except for the people that already knew that we were actually not." I think about it and don't like it, even though I don't care what everybody thinks about our life, if they really have to know, I would rather have them known the truth than lies. "Why?"

Haymitch opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. "Why what?" he asks finally.

"Why wouldn't they say the truth about us?"

He sighs, probably this is even worse than when he had to train us for the Games. Too many questions. "Katniss, this government is still very fragile. They can't risk to make a mistake that will subvert everything they had done so far." He scratches his beard. "Many people in Panem had fought only because of you, because of your love for Peeta and of what it meant. It was like a flame in those dark days. You were their inspiration and their strength; their mockingjay and their girl on fire."

He knows I don't like to be called that, but I know he is trying to make a point. "Since when are you so poetic?" I ask, instead of getting mad.

"It was in the promo for the umpteenth Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's documentary the other night," he replies.

"Okay," I reply. "So, that basically confirms what Peeta and I were thinking."

"Does it?"

"Yes." I go back to the invitations and I particularly like one with primroses on it. Much better than the arrows and bows of the first one I saw or the one with the bread.

"And so?" Haymitch seems confused.

"So, we were wondering how to behave exactly," I finally say, "I mean, do we keep the wedding secret? We don't want any publicity anyway but… do we ask the guests to keep quiet about it? And who can we invite that will not… you know… tell everybody…"

Haymitch laughs so hard I think he is going to fall off the chair. Peeta even walks into the living room, his hands covered in flour, and looks puzzled at us. "No more, no more," says Haymitch amongst fits of laughter, "my side hurts."

Well, I bet it's his liver, but I don't say it. "What's so funny?" I ask.

"You want to keep your wedding quiet," he says, breathing hard after all the laughing, "you want to keep your wedding quiet and you invited…" He clears his throat and suffocates other chuckles. "…you invited the number one source of news in District 12." He points to Greasy Sae's name. "Two crazy girls." He points at Annie and Greasy Sae's granddaughter. "An alcoholic and four of the most gossipy people I have ever met in all my life."

"So what you are saying is that we should only invite Mrs. Everdeen?" asks Peeta.

"If you want to keep it a secret," replies Haymitch, slowly getting back to his normal self. "You probably shouldn't have told me either."

I am starting to think that he is not going to be of any help at all. "Listen, Haymitch," I start really seriously. "We do want all these people, it's important to us."

"Look at you, all sentimental," he says, faking a sweet tone. "Not you, you are always sentimental," he adds towards Peeta.

Peeta doesn't do much except rolling his eyes and shaking his head and then he goes back to the kitchen, leaving the two us alone again. Me having to deal with Haymitch again. Thank you, my future husband. "I'm sure they'll understand," I say tightly. "You do."

"I'm very smart," he replies cockily. "You forget that's my superpower."

I groan. "Okay," I finally say, "we have been sitting here for hours and accomplished nothing. What we actually need you to do is telling us if the people that we are going to suggest as guests are a good choice or a bad one."

"A bad one."

"You don't even know who—"

"I trust your judgment."

"Haymitch!" I thunder. I think I would rather deal with him when he is drunk, he gets stuff done much quicker and leave to fall asleep on the couch instead of this sober, sarcastic self. "Just listen to me."

He rolls his eyes and grabs the pen and position it on the paper. "I'm listening," he says dryly.

"Okay," I finally get to start, "Beetee."

Haymitch thinks about it. "Okay. I'll just start the crazy guests list on the back of the paper."

I ignore him. "Johanna."

"Crazy person number four," he says, writing her name under Beetee, Annie and Sae granddaughter's. "But she is mostly harmless when it's up to talking about these things, I guess."

I guessed that too. "Delly."

Haymitch seems satisfied. "That could actually work." He writes her name too. "She is normal and all right."

"Tigris?" I add cautiously.

"Yeah, that's crazy," he says simply, without writing. "I don't think she would travel that far anyway. Not with at her age."

"We can always send her an invitation," I suggest.

"If you insist but she coming to see you with Effie and the weird trio could be quite suspicious." He writes her name down anyway, probably to make me happy and keep this going.

"Thank you," I say, "I don't know… Peeta says that we should invite Plutarch…"

"Because he saved you in the arena." He scratches his temple. "And you don't want to because he didn't save him." He doesn't wait for my answer. "I'd say, invite him, it's not like it's too likely that he will come anyway. You know… stuff to do, television programs to invent. A hard life he leads."

"Great," I say absentmindedly. "We want Dalton to celebrate the wedding, even though he is from District 10."

"You could have Paylor to celebrate it, if you ask her nicely."

"The President of Panem?" I ask. "Yes, that would keep things quiet."

Haymitch lets out a snort. "You can invite her anyway. I'm sure she is the first one who wants secrecy on this wedding."

"Great," I say, a bit tired about the whole thing. "Write her name down and I think we are there."

Haymitch writes her name and reread the list. "Really?" he asks after a moment. "You sure you are not forgetting anybody, sweetheart?"

I sink in the chair. "I don't want to see Gale."

"And I don't think Peeta would like that either," adds Haymitch. "But he is your cousin," he teases me. "What about his family?"

"I can't invite his family without inviting him, now, can I?" I spit out a bit more vehemently than intended.

Haymitch shrugs his shoulders and stretches his arms above his head. "I don't think so. So, Gale, yay or nay?"

I roll my eyes very emphatically. "I'll think about it." I don't want to make this day more awkward than intended. With my mother that will probably cry, Annie that will remember the day of her own wedding and melt and my prep team that will aww and sigh all the way. Do I need more drama than I can afford? Not really. Do I want Gale at my wedding? I don't... Okay, I guess… maybe. I do. I just want to see him, really. I kind of miss him after all. Well, I have very strong mixed feelings when I think about him, that is the truth. Maybe I do need to see him to make up my mind. Gale, friend or not friend?

"Okay, Gale, yay," I say while Haymitch is standing up. He bents his knees and scribbles 'Gale' rather quickly.

"Family?" he asks, without looking at me.

"Family," I sigh.

"How many are there?"

"His mother, two brothers and one sister."

He writes 'Hawthorne x4' and finally stands up straight. "I like the one with the roses," he adds, nodding towards the invitations. "Not that you were asking my opinion, but really… bread? Keep it for when you open your bakery."

"They are primroses," I say instinctively.

He pats my shoulder on his way out and I hear him calling after Peeta. As soon as the door closes behind his back, Peeta joins me in the living room. A tray of beautifully decorated cupcakes in his hands.

"Are we celebrating something?" I ask and my face probably lights up.

He places the tray on the table and sits where Haymitch has been sitting. He picks up the guest list and skims through the names. He said I could invite whoever I wanted, and he usually doesn't say things that he doesn't mean, so I know he will be fine with almost everybody. I should really start talking to him before he reaches Gale's name.

"Yes," he says, putting the list back down. I am just not too fast these days. "We are celebrating the fact that we have a finished guest list and… invitations, I suppose?"

I hold up the primrose one. "Thank you," I say, handing it over to him so that he can make copies.

"I thought you would have chosen that one, but I tried to help you through the process," he says, nodding at the other invitation drafts. "I really didn't think you would have chosen bread or arrows ones."

"So, you manipulated me," I say, faking outrage.

"I think I said 'help'," he replies, smiling.

I stick out my tongue and go for a cupcake, but Peeta grabs my wrist before that can actually happen. "These are not common cupcakes, Katniss," he says seriously. "They are smaller versions of our wedding cake. You have to choose one."

I look at the tray and finally notice the absolutely gorgeous patterns that each of them has. Each different from the other, each decorate to the most minuscule detail.

"You just have to imagine them on a bigger scale and on two, three or four layers," he says, "depending how many you want."

There are twelve little masterpieces on the tray. One is white with strings of roses – primroses again –, one has a complicated pattern of dark chocolate on a white background, one has a sprinkle of sugar hearts on cream.

"Do you like them?" asks Peeta, his voice nervous because of my prolonged silence.

I raise my eyes on him. "I love them," I reply breathlessly. "I love them all, Peeta, and I think it's absolutely unfair that I have to choose by myself." I push the tray towards him. "Which one do _you_ like?"

"I-I made them for you, Katniss," he replies, "you choose."

"No, you do it," I answer firmly. "I want to know which one you like." I cross my arms over my chest. "Or I'm not going to choose anything. And you'll have to make twelve different cakes."

Peeta sighs. "Fine," he says, "I like this one." He grabs a cupcake and shows it to me. It is covered in a creamy frosting, with elaborated decorations and in the middle a sugar pearl that looks exactly like a real one. Like the one he gave me during the Quarter Quell.

I smile. "I think we found our wedding cake, then," I say. He smiles back and offers it to me and I take a generous bite. It is good, and there is an hidden heart of chocolate inside. The frosting is made of sugar, but it hides a layer of custard, and the decorations are made with chocolate. I was right, the pearl is made of sugar too and it melts in my mouth.

"You like it?" he asks.

"Love it," I reply, munching on the cupcake.

He gives it a bite on the other side and nods. "Not bad, actually." We finish it together and I surely can't wait for the bigger version.

"What do we do with the other ones?" asks Peeta, throwing away the cupcake holder.

"Are you joking?" I ask, absolutely not afraid of showing my greediness in front of him. "I don't know about you, but I am going to have as many as I can without puking."

xxx

"Oh man, will this ever end?" Haymitch is looking at Peeta and me from over his shoulder. A bottle that is particularly hard to open is in his hand. A glass on his kitchen table is awaiting to be filled with the bubbly liquid. We don't dare sitting at the table, we only need a small little information from him.

"If you want to know when this is going to end," says Peeta, "you have to help us pick a date."

He pulls the cork and finally opens the bottle with a loud thump. He pours himself a glass of wine and seems in a great haste to drink it before we can go on talking. "I'll tell you a secret," he says after he has downed the liquor, "you get a calendar, close your eyes and put your finger randomly on it. The day it lands on will be the day of your wedding."

Peeta shakes his head softly. "You are missing the bigger picture, Haymitch."

"Ah, of course I am," he replies and from his tone I start to think that he doesn't like to be our neighbor anymore. Not that he has ever been too thrilled about it really.

"We need a date when there are not too many tourists around," I say. Tourists have not really been a problem for us so far, but they keep coming and coming and some of them are here just to see us. I'm not egocentric, I actually have been told that from an elderly couple from District 10 who came here in July and from a couple of guys who asked me if I were still married to Peeta. What a nerve! And people are coming to see Peeta's pictures too and try his cakes and once his book will be printed out, they will come to have it signed. I think some girls were here too, just to see him.

"They come in summer and winter most of any other season," says Haymitch, drinking his second glass. "That's what they have been saying on television, at least."

"So, fall or spring," Peeta says, looking to me.

"Fall is just gone…" I reply, implying that I don't want to wait too long. I am already extra stressed for all the preparations.

"So, spring?" he asks, smiling softly. Then something dawns in his mind and his smile broadens. "Let's make it your birthday."

"That's like a national holiday," says Haymitch, his voice slurring a bit already.

"No, it's not," I reply disgusted. I am almost agreeing with him when I think that people may be coming to see me on the day of my birthday. Bringing me presents, wishing be 'happy birthday'… even people I might not have invited to the wedding. "How about May 1st?" I suggest. "It's before my birthday, but close enough to it and…" And what? I don't know, a day is just as good as any.

Peeta grabs my hand and squeezes it. "So, May 1st?"

I nod. "May 1st."

"You here on May 1st, Haymitch?" Peeta asks him sarcastically.

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "No, I have to fly on Buttercup's back to the Capitol and learn how to knit a blanket with Enobaria that day."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **Another uneventful chapter, but we are getting closer to the wedding and to the arrival of the guests. I want to write some more smutty scenes (how bad does that sound?), but can't seem able to find an excuse for that.. I'm so excited I will be writing about Gale and Effie and the others coming to the wedding, I have so many surprises in mind for you... Can you guess what they are?

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
**

The post office, the shiny, new, fully working post office of District 12, is probably the best invention coming from the Capitol. Apparently, it is not an invention. They have always had post offices in the Capitol, only they were working only inside the city. The big news now is that we can send letters and things through the Districts. All you have to do is bringing whatever you want to send to the post office and tell them the District and person you want it delivered to and they will just do it for you. Every day they do it and communication amongst Districts – especially for those without a phone – has never been more swift and organized than this.

"Yes?" an elderly woman behind a counter covered in parcels and letters acknowledges me. Even from that three-letter-word I can detect a strong Capitol accent. Well, her attire would also fool nobody. She has covered her wrinkles in a thick layer of makeup and her hair is violet, while her glasses are ringed with pink plastic that matches the pink dress she is wearing. She must be here to instruct a bunch of employees on the dynamics of the posting world.

"I need to send these," I say, placing the letters on the table.

"How many?" she asks, grabbing a pen, "and where to?"

"The names and the Districts are on the envelopes," I say, tapping my finger on the top one.

She looks at me and reposition her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose. "Good job," she says, "not many people do that." She picks up the envelopes and starts going through them, saying the District numbers without reading the names. "District 10, District Four, Capitol…" And placing the different envelops on different piles of things ready to be shipped. When she finishes, she looks at me from behind her glasses. "Is that everything?"

I squeeze the last envelope I have in my hand, probably ruining the invitation inside. Why is it so difficult? I have to send it, mail has never gone lost in this new and improved Panem and if Gale doesn't show up at my wedding Peeta will think that it's all his fault and that he doesn't want to. I can have that, if it's the truth. I couldn't bear the thought of accusing him unfairly, though. I put the envelope on the table with more force than I should.

The woman looks at me irritated. "District Two," she says coldly and puts it on top of Johanna's envelope. "Anything else?"

"That's all," I reply. "Thank you," I add graciously.

"You are welcome. The letters should reach their receivers by tomorrow," she says, going back to her work.

I walk out of the post office and into the incredibly cold air. A group of tourists walk past me, they have come in the hope to see the snow. Two little girls, not older than Prim, come to me and ask me if they can have my autograph or a picture with me. A weird looking boy wants to touch my scars. One young man invites me to have dinner to the place where he is staying. He is lucky I don't have my bow and arrows with me.

"You did it?" asks Peeta when I walk into the house.

"I did it," I assure him, taking off my jacket, scarf, hat, gloves and shoes in no particular order. "The post office looks very efficient." I slump down on the couch next to Peeta, who is stroking the ugliest cat of the world on his lap. "They say that they are going to receive the letters tomorrow."

"That means that tomorrow we are going to talk on the phone to an extremely emotional Mrs. Everdeen, to an overexcited trio from the Capitol and to a controlling lady that will surely want to take over the wedding," he says, scratching Buttercup's belly.

I snuggle closer to him and place my head on his shoulder. "We should not answer the phone."

"I'm sure Effie would call Haymitch and have him coming here to tell us to pick up the phone," he says, thoughtfully.

"He would never do that," I reply, he doesn't get ordered around by Effie, never has.

"He would if she calls him all day long."

Peeta has a point. People from the Capitol have an innocent but irritating way of obtaining what they want. "How did it go with the letters you delivered?" I finally ask. Today, he had the task of bringing the letters to the people of District 12, while I had to go to the post office.

"Let's see," he starts, while Buttercup purrs in his lap. "Haymitch said that we had already brought him his invitation, what the heck were we thinking, why does he need two and will that mean more cake."

I smile. "He is taking it well."

"Better than I thought," replies Peeta. "Greasy Sae says that she is absolutely ecstatic that we want her at our wedding, and that she will keep her mouth shut about it." Peeta smiles at me. "I gave her a loaf of banana bread and we sealed a pact," he continues. "And I don't think that her granddaughter will say anything. She hugged me tightly and patted my head and that was her response to the wedding news."

"That's sweet," I say. I am quite grateful that Peeta did the round of invitations of District 12 without me, I wouldn't have been good at all with all these feelings and emotions directed to me. I dread tomorrow and the upcoming phone calls.

"And Delly said that she was so very happy for us and that she will be crying a lot when you'll walk towards me at our wedding, and that you should know that now and get over it," he says, chuckling.

I look at him and can't decide if he is joking or not. "Real or not real?"

"Real," he replies, placing a hand on his heart.

"Oh great," I mope, "people crying, just what I want."

Peeta slides his arm around my shoulders and pushes me closer to me. "I might cry too," he says.

I slap his arm playfully. "Don't you dare," I warn him.

He laughs and Buttercup stands from his lap, it stretches its head towards Peeta's and meows for attention. Little, evil cat that wants to steal our moment. I scratch it between its ears and it purrs back to me.

"I bet you'll be the one crying," he chuckles.

I move my head away and look at him. "Oh, you know me so well," I joke.

He kisses my temple and I snuggle even closer to him. I like that. I would like to freeze that moment forever, put it right next the one we had on the rooftop and create a string of happy moments together. I smile and close my eyes. If three years ago someone had told me that I would have been here, hugging Peeta without getting enough of him, I think I would have probably thought this someone had suffered a really bad concussion. I do love being wrong.

xxx

"Yes, we are serious." I sigh and smile to Peeta who is sketching Buttercup very quickly right next to me. "No, I don't think that would be funny either." I pull a lock of hair behind my ear. "Yes, it was very romantic the way he asked." I groan. "Listen, Effie, when you come here Peeta will tell you everything." Peeta glares at me. "I just really want to know if Cinna's wedding dresses, the ones he made for me, are still… no, Effie, don't cry!"

Effie is sobbing loudly in the phone. I don't understand if it is because of the wedding or because I just mentioned Cinna. She tries to say something I only understand "young" and "beautiful" and once again I can't make out if she is talking about the dresses or about us.

"Yes," I say tentatively and grumble my consensus every time I can hear words coming from her. "Of course," I add, hoping that she is not talking about something that I'll regret to agree to. "Listen, Effie, can you send the dresses?"

She sniffs loudly and blows her nose. "Of course, Katniss," she says sweetly. "I know where they keep them, I will send them tomorrow."

I frown and suddenly I am wondering where they keep them. "Where do they keep them?" And who are _them_?

"Oh, they are stored at the President's mansion, with a bunch of other relics from the war," she replies lightly, her voice back to normality. "But they are not on show, yet."

Yet? I don't want to know what that means. Those dresses don't mean much to me anyway, except for the fact that Cinna designed them, they remind me of one of the unhappiest times of my life. The fact that she called them 'relics' is weird, though. It makes me feel like the events of the war and the Games are millions of years in the past. "Great," I manage to say.

"If I may suggest, Katniss, I really like the pink one," says Effie cheerfully.

Ah, of course she does. "I like green," I say. Annie wore the green dress though. I think I might wear the orange one. Is there an orange one at all? Which one did the people of the Capitol pick anyway? I can't remember. I know I am trying to get lost in my own thoughts to not listen to Effie, but her voice gets more piercing. "Katniss? Katniss?"

"Yes," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Sorry."

"What kind of suit does Peeta want?" she asks airily.

Peeta? Right. He has no suits here in District 12. He left everything in the Capitol, just like me. Has he thought about it? He hasn't talked about it at all, I wonder what he wants to wear. I am more than happy to say, "Right, he is right here, Effie, I'll put him through."

He looks at me with his mouth slightly open and tries to mouth 'no', but I am quicker and the receiver is already against his ear and, grabbing the phone, he has to say 'hello'. More time than Peeta would like passes, all I hear is him telling Effie how tall he is, how much he weighs, his measures… What color he would like to wear. I hear him agreeing with Effie when she says that black is good with anything. She also suggests to match our dresses, but we have had enough of that. He frowns when she exclaims that a 'wedding on fire' with our old tributes dresses would be perfect. I can hear everything because her voice is just too high pitched for me to ignore, even if I am not the one on the phone. Peeta is trying hard to find something to say to stop her flown of words and finally he spits out the most dangerous thing he could say, "I trust you, Effie." And hangs up unceremoniously.

He looks at me seriously. "Listen," he says, "I know that you hunt and I do the cooking and the baking and you might be confused about who has to do what here, but you are the girl and you have to do the girl talk." He darkens. "Especially with Effie." He manages to stay absolutely serious even though my smile threatens to become a laugh. I want to reply something, but the phone rings again. For the fifth time today. I think we have received more calls today rather than during all the time that we have had a phone. Before Effie we heard from a very cheerful Beetee; my mother, who assured me that she had finished her share of happy crying before she decided to call; a weird phone call from Annie, who said that she will bring seaweed as a good omen. Then there was Plutarch, who found the whole secrecy thing ridiculous and asked if he could bring two cameramen; and Johanna, who was just happy for us. Literally, that was her message.

"Hello?"

I am aware of someone talking and it's not Peeta. Finally, I notice the receiver is on my face now, Peeta's hand pushing it against my ear.

"Hello?" I reply.

"Catnip?"

I freeze. "Gale?" I whisper.

"Hey," he says and his voice sounds slightly embarrassed. "How are you?"

I glance at Peeta, who is still pushing the receiver against my ear. He is looking back at me intently but calmly. I grab the receiver from his hand and give a faint smile. "I'm good," I reply. "I'm getting married."

"Yes, I received the invitation," he replies. "Thank you for that."

"Well, I wanted my hunting partner to be there," I say. "Are you going to make it?" A part of me wants him to come so badly, another part would feel better if he didn't.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replies. "I have wanted to go to District 12 for weeks. Just to have a glimpse of the woods and everything else."

"District 12 has changed a lot," I inform him.

"That's what I heard," he says flatly. "Ah, thank you for inviting my family."

"No problem." I look at Peeta. "Peeta and I are happy to have them here." Peeta nods to what I just said and I mouth a 'thank you' to him.

"They want me to let you know that they will all make it."

"Great," I say. I am genuinely happy to see the Hawthornes. I hear a bustling sound on the other side of the receiver and voices that I think I recognize, but that I can't quite place.

"Listen, I have to go," he finally says, "but it was nice… hearing your voice."

I smile involuntary. "It was nice hearing your voice too," I say.

There is silence on the other end and I think he has already hung up. "Gale?" I whisper.

"Yes, no, I'm here," he says quickly. "I'll see you next spring then." He doesn't wait for my answer. "Bye, Catnip."

"Bye," I reply and put the receiver back on the phone. I don't look at Peeta, but I feel like he is looking at me and when I finally glance in his direction I am right.

"I am happy he can make it," he says diplomatically. "I know it means a lot to you."

I nod, then grab his arm and make it slide over my shoulders. I rest my head on his chest and hug him. "He doesn't mean as much as you do to me," I whisper. Somehow I feel guilty for this phone call, and I don't know why. To hear Gale's voice stirred something inside of me, memories of an old life, of freedom in an oppressed land. But I am sure I don't feel for him what I feel for Peeta, especially not when Peeta raises my chin with his fingers and kisses me.

"I love you," he says when we break the kiss.

"Love you too," I reply. I grab the receiver and put it on the table. I can hear the faint tu tu, almost like a tut-tut of disapproval, come from the machine. "Enough for today," I add, thinking that I haven't heard from the prep team yet. "Let's go—"

My suggestion hangs in mid-air as we both turn towards the kitchen window that has just been shaken by a powerful, angry knock. Haymitch is there, his face hard and when he talks, even if he is standing outside, we can hear him perfectly. "Would you answer the phone, already?" he screams. "Your damn prep team is driving me crazy, keeping on calling me!" He glares at us and we can't help smiling at his rage. "I am waiting for a phone call!" he adds in protest and stomps away.

They must have found the line busy every time they have tried to call me. How they knew Haymitch's number is a mystery to me. I look at Peeta as he puts the receiver back on the phone. It starts ringing even before his hand has left it. "Peeta," I groan.

He stands up and scoops up his sketchbook with Buttercup's sketch and Buttercup itself. "Good luck," he says before disappearing into the living room.

I sigh and pick up the phone and when I hear three very excited voices on the other side, I know that I groan too loudly for them not to hear me.

xxx

We have invited Haymitch over for dinner. Greasy Sae has come back to cook and clean for us almost every day since we gave her the invitation for the wedding, so we have more food than we can actually eat between the two of us. We don't like to waste, that is one reason why Haymitch is here, the other one is the little, absolutely miniscule, favor that we have to ask him.

We make sure that Greasy Sae cooks Haymitch's favorite dish – anything that has goose inside, that what he likes since his geese have started to wake him up in the middle of the night – and we wait until he is well fed before we direct the dialogue where we want.

"Did you like the goose?" I ask, collecting dirty dishes here and there from the table.

"Delicious," he replies, "I hope it was one of the males." He cleans his mouth on the napkin.

Peeta smiles and looks at me, I smile back and tilt my head from him to Haymitch, raising my eyebrows at the same time. He takes a deep breath and looks at me as if I have asked him the moon.

"Hey, Haymitch," he begins cautiously, "you have a lot of free room in your house, right?"

Haymitch looks from me to him, sensing that there must be something wrong with such a question. I turn away to turn on the water and start cleaning the plates. I don't really have to do it, Greasy Sae is more than happy to do it for me in the mornings, but I want to do it. Especially at this very moment.

"I do," he says, "I like to have space."

"It gets lonely, though," suggests Peeta, "I mean, I would get lonely."

"We are very different, Peeta." He pours some of the wine he has brought into his glass. "For example, I don't know where you are going with this Peeta, if you think that you're going to move in with me once you get married or something like that, but if you don't get to the point quickly I will throw you a knife."

Peeta sighs. "It would be nice of you if you could put up some people for the wedding," he says very quickly.

I don't know what we were so worried about, because when I turn to look at them after a slightly too long silence, Haymitch is downing his wine, then shrugs his shoulders and gives a faint nod. "That's okay," he replies. "Not someone crazy, though," he adds, standing up. Then he sits down again and look at Peeta. "Is there cake?"


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note: **Honestly, another chapter with no sex. This is boring, I warn you! Gale is coming in the next chapter, so it will be better, but this one was kind of necessary! Enjoy, or try to.. Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**

The first person to arrive for the wedding is my mother. No surprise there, really. She arrives and glows as if she can't contain her excitement, exactly two weeks before the date we set. From the moment she sets foot on District 12 ground, she starts chatting away as if there is no tomorrow. I am not even sure she said any kind of greetings to me before starting her monologue about my wedding. She speaks so fast, and that is unusual for her, she speaks a lot and that too is kind of exceptional. Or maybe that is me. The one who doesn't speak much to her.

"… and have you tried the dresses that Effie sent you? I know she did, because she called me to ask if you changed your size by any chances and needed to adjust your dresses." She giggles. "Apparently it would not have been polite of her to ask directly to you. And Peeta? How's he?"

"He is well," I reply quickly. Should he not be well?

"I'm sure he is," says my mother sweetly. "Is he baking the cake himself? And who is cooking? He shouldn't be working on the day of his wedding."

"Greasy Sae is cooking, but Peeta assured me that he is happy to bake and decorate the cake," I answer.

"Has he seen the dress you are going to wear?" continues my mother.

"I haven't decided what dress I am going to wear, just yet," I reply sheepishly. I've had the dresses with me for months and never even tried them on once. I feel as if I have not done the only thing that I was supposed to do, but I have been so busy doing other things… hunting, reading, looking at Peeta, feeding Buttercup. Yes, indeed I have been busy procrastinating to avoid trying the dresses, but I have a perfectly good explanation for that. The closer the wedding comes the more nervous I get. On the other hand, the nearer the date gets, the happier Peeta is, and the more annoyed I get with him. I do want to marry him, but I feel like my life will change dramatically once I am Mrs. Mellark. And the fact that Peeta can be so relaxed about it makes me feel like I am the only one who is taking this whole thing seriously. I know, I am unfair, but I'd rather think that than the truth. Because the truth is I'm afraid.

"Oh, no problem," says my mother, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I will help you with the fitting of the dresses, we'll choose one together. Has Peeta chosen a suit for himself?"

"I don't know," I reply truthfully. I haven't paid much attention to what he wants to wear, but I don't think he wants to talk about it at all. He hasn't asked me about my dress, but I think it has something to do with the ancient belief that it is bad luck if he sees the dress before the wedding. Something that comes from our ancestors, apparently. Well, he has already seen every possible dress during the photo shot I had the first time we were engaged. I wonder if that counts.

We reach the house, and I notice that my mother has gone on talking for the whole time, while I have been lost in my thoughts. Peeta is waiting for us at the door, and she hugs him as affectionately as she has never done before. Peeta hugs her back and he looks genuinely happy to see her. Hot chocolate is waiting for us on the table, even though spring is definitely here, Peeta knows that I love hot chocolate all year around. That and lamb stew with plums. Peeta grabs my mother's suitcase from her hands, apparently, she had had one, all the way up to the house, but I was so distracted by her chatting and my own thoughts that I didn't even notice, and he brings it upstairs.

"He is such a nice young man," pipes my mother as soon as we are alone in kitchen. I sip at my cup and nod. She has never expressed any opinion about him or Gale, and I have been happy about that. I don't need her to start now.

Luckily for me Peeta is back and he takes place right in front of my mother. "Did you have a nice trip from District Four?" he asks.

My mother smiles. "Yes, the train is probably the most luxurious thing I have seen in all my life," she says. "And because I was travelling because Katniss is sick." She winks at us. "I got to travel for free." She didn't say that I was sick to get a free ticket from the Capitol, she said that because it was the only way to obtain a two-week-leave from her job, and also used it as an excuse to cover the wedding. Whereas Peeta and I think that cover up the wedding is the best move to keep it quiet and to avoid a crowd of curious people at our doorstep, I suspect that my mother is still genuinely afraid of some kind of retaliation against us.

"Newell will join us two days before the wedding," my mother says lightly, looking from Peeta to me from over her cup.

"Newell?" I ask and suddenly think that the name is not totally unfamiliar to me.

"Yes, Katniss, I told you about him," she replies sweetly. "During our phone calls."

I look hardly at her. "You mentioned him," I reply, "I still don't know who he is exactly."

My mother is fidgeting now, but she is still smiling to me. "A dear, _dear_ friend," she says quietly.

"How dear?" I ask a bit more coldly than intended.

"Is he a doctor too?" asks Peeta before I can add anything else or before my mother can reply or, more likely, try to avoid giving me an answer.

"Yes," my mother says, "the best doctor we have in our team, he is from District One."

"Sounds like a man worth knowing, right, Katniss?" he asks brightly. A bit too brightly for the situation.

I look at him and then back to my mother. "Yes, I can't wait," I reply, "I just didn't know that you were bringing someone. We need to rethink the whole table situation and have more food…"

Peeta clears his throat and scratches his forehead uncomfortably. "Well, actually Katniss," he starts weakly, "I knew he was coming."

I glare at him and if a look could kill I would be a widow even before my wedding. "Did you?" I ask, my voice dangerously low. He better have a very good explanation for this.

"Yes, see?" he rummages through the box in which we keep the mail and comes up with my mother's invitation. "She said 'plus one' here at the bottom." He looks at me guiltily. "I thought you saw it."

I can't even get mad at him. He is right. The fact that I didn't mention that my mother was bringing someone did not necessarily mean that I didn't know. Peeta must have thought that I simply wanted to avoid talking about it altogether.

"I think I would love to have a hot bath, if you don't mind," my mother says, standing up, "then we can have a look at your dresses, Katniss."

"Of course," I say and give her a tentative smile as she disappears out of the kitchen door, leaving Peeta and me alone.

"You handled that well," he chuckles once her steps have faded away on the stairs.

I glare at him. "She has a boyfriend," I say weakly.

Peeta stands up and makes his way towards me, he places his hands on both my shoulders and bends down towards me. "I think she has an adult relationship with an adult man," he whispers, "and I think she is just as embarrassed as you are to talk about it."

"Great," I murmur. Well, it is great, if she is embarrassed there are less chances for us to talk about it. Now, on top of her asking me how my love-life is going (medically speaking, naturally), I dread her telling me more about this Newell.

Peeta kisses the top of my head and I suddenly feel calmer. Honestly, I don't want him to leave me alone with my mother a minute more and I dread the fitting that is coming. I want him to come with me, but he would suffer just as much as I do. "Do you have to choose which suit you are going to wear for the wedding?" I ask him, talking about it for the first time.

"I already know."

xxx

"I really like the sunset one," I say to my mother. I think that by saying 'sunset' instead of 'orange' I make it sound classier than what it actually is. Every dress fits perfectly and I have been told that dark haired people have a bigger range of colors that they can wear without looking ridiculous. I can hear Effie's voice in my head. _"You are so lucky, Katniss, you can't even imagine how difficult it is to match a color with my hair!"_ And I always thought that everything goes with pink, Effie.

I have tried every dress on at least twice and I am exhausted, even more tired than when I am hunting in the woods. My mother likes the blue one, the silver one and the creamy one, but she says that she doesn't want to impose her choices on me. I should choose whatever dress I like. I like the silver one, but I want to wear the sunset one. For Peeta, even though this color reminds me of something unpleasant. The first time I tried it on, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and started to think that I looked at little bit too much like the girl on fire. I am afraid to twirl, scared that flames will come out from the dress.

"Are you sure?" asks my mother quietly, looking at me as I stare at myself.

"No," I say truthfully. I sigh, I hate to try dresses on. If only I could wear what I wear every day, my hunting clothes even, I would feel much more confident.

"Do you need help?" my mother asks me.

"I guess so," I reply, looking at her through my reflection in the mirror.

"Why do you want to wear the orange one?" she asks, caressing my hair.

"Because it's Peeta's favorite color," I reply simply. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. "I am not doing anything for him! I want at least to be wearing the color he likes at our wedding." I frown. "Is that stupid?"

"I think it's cute," she replies, grabbing my shoulders, "but I don't want you to get mad at me because I said that my little hunter is doing something cute."

I smile. "You don't like this dress, do you?"

"I think that you'll agree with me if I say that this dress has mockingjay written all over it," she says firmly. "I believe this was the dress that the people picked for you when they had to vote before your wedding, but President Snow didn't want it. He chose the black one."

"Very appropriate, for that wedding," I hiss. My anger at Snow is still there after all that time. He toyed with us. He toyed with our lives and I don't foresee any particular time in the future where I will be able to forgive him. Something dawns in my mind. "Is this the same wedding?" I ask my mother and feel a knot in my stomach.

She looks at me seriously. "Absolutely not," she replies severely. "You might be the same people, but the wedding is totally different. Nobody is forcing you into doing anything this time, you are here because you love Peeta, not because your loved ones are going to die if you don't go through with this."

I smile weakly. "I like the silver dress," I say, nodding towards the long, silvery dress. It has short sleeves and a simple, rigid corset with a pearly white piece of satin around the waist. The skirt is long and pleated and the light sparkles on it.

"And you know what?" she says, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "I like that too."

xxx

The second person to arrive for the wedding is, unexpectedly, Effie. Ten days before the actual date, Peeta and I are just wondering what her business is here so early. We are both slightly afraid that she might decide to take our lives and the last preparations for the wedding into her hands and basically make our lives impossible. Do we have to be polite if she stresses us beyond measure? I can't assure that I will be.

"Aren't you absolutely excited?" she says to us as soon as the train doors open. Apparently greetings are overrated in all of Panem because I haven't heard a simple 'hello, Katniss' in a long time. "Katniss, you look splendid! Peeta, what a handsome young man you are!"

I still have to learn how to take a compliment from Effie, because I just look down at my attire and at my pale and emaciated hands. I don't want to know what my face looks like, but I am sure it doesn't look good. I am losing sleep everyday more and I firmly believe that only the prep team will be able to improve my appearance.

"Do you know where you are going to stay, Effie?" asks Peeta as he does his best to drag Effie's suitcases and look manly at the same time. "Anywhere near the station?" he adds hopefully.

"Oh, the station is so noisy!" she dismisses him, waving her hand. "I am going to be the first guest at the new hotel they opened in District 12." She smiles brightly and keeps beaming even though Peeta and I are just looking puzzled back at her.

"I am sorry to break the news to you, Effie, but there is no hotel in District 12," I say, "only at the Capitol for what I know."

Effie laughs a shrilly laughter. "Katniss, my dear, you should get out more often," she says.

"I get out all the time," I reply dryly.

"I don't mean in the woods," she chimes, "they are building a new hotel for the tourists. They'll be happy to stay there instead of old restored houses. Tourism is what is going to make the economy go around in the future."

"But if they are building it," says Peeta, "it's not finished?"

"Oh, it's finished all right. But it's not open yet. That is why I am here, to check the condition of the new building and see if everything works. It's my new job, really, going from hotel to hotel and complain about what it's not right." She smiles warmly as if she takes extreme pleasure in complaining.

"I'm sure you're perfect at it," I say truthfully.

"Thank you, Katniss!" she replies heartily. "Now this hotel should be… behind the Merchant section, very close to the Mellark's Bakery."

"Really?" asks Peeta and he stops, rather than in surprise I would say to catch his breath as he keeps dragging Effie's luggage.

"Of course," says Effie, walking briskly in the direction of the Merchant section in her high heels. "That's where the tourist tours will start. From your family bakery."

"Tourist tours?" I asks.

"Yes, you don't think people will come here for the landscape, do you?"

I see nothing wrong with District 12 landscape. In fact it is my favorite amongst all districts. I try to help Peeta with the suitcases, but he wouldn't let me get close to them, apparently, if I help him I break some sort of unspoken pact that mark his dominancy as a male.

"Here we are." I can finally hear Effie's voice, as she stops a few steps ahead of us. There is no wonder we didn't know that there was a hotel in District 12. First of all, we never walk in this part of town anymore; second the hotel is no bigger than a normal townhouse. I would have expected some sort of Capitol-like architecture, but nothing like that. Just a house with many unfinished details here and there.

"I would imagine it being bigger," says Effie, giving voice to my thoughts. "Oh, I'm sure it will be super luxurious." She smiles at us and effortlessly grabs the suitcases from Peeta's hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, yes?" She says sweetly. "We need to discuss _things_ for the wedding."

I don't like the sound of that 'things', but I smile and nod anyway and she disappears inside the hotel without looking back.

"That doesn't look like a hotel," says Peeta, the moment we are on our way back to our house.

"Nothing like that, and I thought we would know something if a hotel is built in our town, wouldn't we?" I reply.

"Indeed." He glances over his shoulder. "Maybe we should get out more."

"I get out just fine," I reply. "And when the tourists arrive I don't want to be out there with them…" I look at Peeta and widen my eyes. "We should move!"

Peeta tilts his head and looks back at me. "Move… where?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Into the woods, near the lake, maybe…"

"Katniss, that sounds… crazy."

"Crazily amazing?"

"Just crazy." He smiles as if he things that I am joking. Well, I am not.

"Why?"

"Well, the woods are just… out there, what if we want to have a conversation with someone, or we need something, like food or other things… and what if someone needs us from the village…"

"What are you talking about? Nobody has ever needed us and we don't need anybody."

He lowers his eyes. "What if we have kids?" he murmurs.

I take a deep breath and desperately hope that my answer is not going to sound too heartless. "We are not going to have kids, Peeta." Nope, even after the umpteenth time it still sounds heartless.

He nods and smiles, but somehow I know he is faking his understanding. I don't want to get into the hundredth discussion about children and he doesn't seem too keen either, so, we just decide to let it go. "Okay," he says and kisses me on my forehead. "Let's go, it's almost dinner time and I am starving."

xxx

Peeta is patient. Probably the most patient person I have ever met. Even now that we are lying side by side in bed, each doing something – he is drawing cakes on his cooking book and I am reading about some plants that I completely forgot about in my family herb book – I can tell that it is taking him a great amount of calm and patience to just do that.

"_Sex is off the table when my mother is in the house." _That what I told him the day before my mother arrived. He agreed at first, but now, after only five days, I can tell that he is already longing for some intimacy. I really want him too, but I am so scared my mother could hear us that that very thought is just a put off for me.

"So," he says, glancing at me, "Gale is coming tomorrow?"

I nod. "With Johanna apparently, they are travelling together."

"Should I be jealous?" he asks, but something in his voice makes me understand that he is joking.

"And should I be jealous of Johanna?" I ask back. "After all, you saw her half naked."

He chuckles. "You saw her half naked too."

That is true. I saw her supple body half naked right in front of my eyes, while I was standing next to Peeta. Not the shy type she is.

"Are you going hunting with him?"

I glance at Peeta. "Maybe," I reply vaguely. "I haven't thought about it yet." I think about it. "Some meat would be nice though."

Peeta nods and smiles. "Didn't he say he has a surprise for us?"

I nod. "I wonder what that is."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note: **This chapter is actually dedicated to Destined627 and BrightestWitchOfHerAge16, because they are the only currently active reviewers of my story. Thank you for your support! I am happy that you are enjoying this. Ah, finally I got to write some smut, okay, don't get me wrong, but I felt like something was missing in Peeta and Katniss' relationship. After all, they are two young people who are very much in love... So, if smut disturbs you, you should skip the last bit, if you are longing for some action go straight there.. But the whole chapter is quite important. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
**

I feel like I am spending most of my mornings on the platform at the station, waiting for people to arrive on the train. Usually, I am either happy or anxious or embarrassed to see someone that I haven't seen in a long time. Today, as I wait for Gale, I am all these three things together. I am happy that Peeta is standing right next to me, I actually grab his arm when the train pulls into the station.

He puts his hand over mine and squeezes it gently. _Relax_, he seems to say to me with no words, and I do.

The doors open and Gale is standing right there, handsome as always, his hair slightly longer than I remember, his skin slightly paler. I suppose he doesn't see the light of day very often with his new job in District Two. He smiles at Peeta and me and jumps boldly down the train. For a moment I think he will run towards me, but that doesn't happen. Au contraire, he turns towards the train and offers a hand to the woman who is following him.

My hand automatically squeezes Peeta's arm as I understand that the young woman who is climbing down the train at this very moment is Johanna Mason. I hear a faint crack coming from my knuckles as I squeeze even tighter when I notice that Johanna has either put on a lot of extra weight on her stomach region or…

"Katniss!" she says and, to my surprise, she is the one who runs towards me. "I can't believe I'm here for your wedding!" She looks happy, almost beaming at me. She doesn't look anything like the usual Johanna. She is glowing with… contentment? Hormones?

"Yes," I reply weakly. "Thank you for coming."

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it," she replies. Her hand goes to her stomach and she caresses it delicately, as if she is waiting for me to notice it.

I try to subtly squeeze Peeta's arm even more, but my hand has already been gripped to his arm for the whole time so forcefully that I think his blood has stopped flowing to his hand. He understands though. "Johanna," he says, "it's so nice to see you and… what a wonderful surprise!" He nods towards her belly.

Johanna smiles and I think I have never seen her that happy. "Thank you! I'm six and a half months," she says. As soon as she notices that Peeta is far more interested than me in her pregnancy, she moves right in front of him, letting Gale stepping forward to take her place.

"Hey Catnip," he says, "I can't believe I'm actually here for your wedding." He hugs me and I have to stand on tiptoe to hug him back.

"I can't believe that either," I reply. I want to say a million things to him, but with Peeta and Johanna standing right next to us things don't come out easily. "You know where you are staying?"

He nods. "In one of the restored houses of the Seam," he replies. "I wanted us to stay at my house, but it's not done yet."

"We'll help you with your luggage," says Peeta as he nods a greeting towards Gale.

"We don't have much," says Gale. "We are just tired because of the ride." He looks at Johanna as if to say that she must be tired in her delicate condition.

"You should come for dinner tomorrow," says Peeta, "Greasy Sae is cooking Katniss' favorite."

"Lamb stew?" says Johanna and I see her eyes twinkle in anticipation.

"Indeed," I reply. I look at Gale and wait for something, but he doesn't say anything and only scoops up the two small suitcases that they have with them.

Somehow it's Peeta who talks. "You should go hunting tomorrow, Katniss," he says casually. "I heard the weather is going to be just perfect."

Gale raises his head like a dog who is sniffing the air for a squirrel and glances at me.

I nod and look at him. "Sounds like a good idea."

Gale finally straightens up and looks at me. "I haven't been hunting in a long time," he says, "I might just tag along."

Johanna places her hand on his arm, mirroring what I am doing with Peeta, but instead of support as I need from Peeta, she is encouraging him. "That's a great idea," she says. "And I will try some of those pastries that they say Peeta bakes all the time." She looks at Peeta. "If you don't mind having me around."

"Not at all," he says. "So we'll see you tomorrow?"

Everybody nods his or her assent and we part in two different directions. We go back towards the Victors' Village while they walk towards the Seam. Peeta and I don't talk. I am just staring blankly in front of me, letting out one too many sighs every now and then.

"What's wrong, Katniss?" asks Peeta as we get closer to the house.

"Nothing is wrong," I reply quickly.

He takes a deep breath as he always does before diving into a discussion with me. "Johanna is pregnant," he declares unnecessarily.

"I noticed," I reply dryly.

"Are you upset about it?" he asks.

"Why would I be?" I reply haughtily.

"That's a good question."

I stop abruptly and turn to face him. "Why would I be upset? Just because it's our wedding and what…? My mother comes up with the news that she has a boyfriend, Effie tells us that there is a hotel in District 12 and Gale and Johanna are having a baby?" I am screaming now and I can see out of the corner of my eye that some people are stopping to look at me.

"Yes, I know," he replies, trying to calm me down, "lots of information. But just for another ten days we should not worry about anybody but ourselves."

"How can we?" I cry at him. "I wonder what surprise Annie will have in store for us, or maybe Mrs. Hawthorne." I shake my head. "I think this wedding is the least important of all the things that are happening at this moment, I can't even see the point of it, the whole world already thinks that we are married and those who don't expected it to happen since the end of the war."

Peeta looks at me seriously. "Are you sure you are not just jealous of Gale and Johanna?"

I clench my fists at my sides. That is just rubbish, why would I be jealous of them? They can do whatever they want. Peeta just wants to confuse me. "It's impossible to talk to you, Peeta!" I scream before stomping away.

"Really?" I hear him calling behind me. "You should try to talk to yourself, see how that work for you!"

xxx

I am sitting on the stone at the rendezvous place I used to share with Gale. I have been waiting for almost an hour now, but I know it's my fault. I arrived earlier than the time we used to meet up when we were hunting partners. Not my fault though, I had spent the worst night ever. Peeta and I had had a seemingly endless discussion about apparently anything and everybody. About children, about Gale and Johanna, about the color of the napkins at our wedding, about the best food to feed Buttercup with. With the excuse that I had to wake up early for the hunting, I told him I would sleep on the couch. Naturally, sleeping without Peeta means that I couldn't sleep at all. Nightmares haunted my dreams and didn't let me sleep. I dreamed that I was back in the Capitol, with Peeta and Johanna and Gale. Johanna was not expecting, but instead I had every sign of a pregnancy, starting from my round belly to feeling frail and in need of protection. I was not sure who the father was though. Then I was in labor and before I could see my child, President Snow appeared and claimed him as his own. Every time I woke up I felt less and less rested. The last time I opened my eyes, right before dawn, it was Peeta who had shaken me to consciousness. He sat down with me and we waited for the first light of day to filter through the windows. Then he went to the kitchen and I came here. Waiting for Gale.

I am tapping my fingers nervously on my bow and kicking rocks with my feet when he finally appears. I can see him before I can actually hear him. He is as silent as he has always been.

"I thought I was early," he says, standing in front of me.

"I arrived an hour ago," I say, screening my eyes with my hand to look up at him.

He studies my face. "You look terrible."

"Thank you," I reply, "that is what every bride to be wants to hear."

He smiles and I stand up. Without saying anything else, we head towards the woods. We hunt in complete silence for the whole morning. I catch three squirrels and a deer. Gale catches a wild turkey and he points out that he is out of practice. For a moment we are back in time, when our being here was the only happy time of the week. For a moment I forget everything there is except Gale and the woods. I know that moment cannot last, but I let myself indulge in the sensation. It is a light and warm feeling.

"I am starving," says Gale, as he ties up the legs of the wild turkey.

I look at him and smile. There are rocks everywhere in the woods, so we just need to look for a flat one to sit on and I can show him what I have. It doesn't take us long, and I actually remember that place from way back. I wonder if he remembers too. The game is at our feet as I open my backpack and take out two loaves of bread and some cheese. "Peeta baked the bread last night," I say, giving him one.

He brings it to his nose. "It smells good."

"It's the best bread you can find in District 12." I smile. "Not to mention the only one."

"Really? Nobody wants to open a bakery?" he asks, biting down on the loaf.

"Nobody wants to compete with Peeta," I reply.

There is silence while I open the cheese and cut off some slices. I pass a couple of them to Gale and he thanks me by nodding. We seat there, for a while the only sounds are those of our mouths chewing on the sober feast.

When I talk, it is a surprise to me as well as it is to him. "So, you and Johanna are having a baby," I say, trying to sound as natural as possible as if I am talking about the weather.

He nods. "We are," he says matter-of-factly.

"I didn't even know you were together," I murmur.

Gale laughs. "Well, let's say that we got pregnant before we were actually together," he says.

That is somehow both unexpected and very predictable from them. "Aren't you scared you are going to be a father?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I have always wanted to have kids," he replies. "At some point I wanted to have them with you."

My hand holding the cheese stops right in front of my mouth. What did he just say? Do my broad hips make me perfect for having children? Why does it seem that everybody wants to share the joys of parenthood with me? "Excuse me?" I whisper.

"I just never stop thinking about you," he whispers back.

The question comes spontaneously into my mind and I just speak my thoughts out loud. "Do you love Johanna?" Suddenly, I understand something. I am more afraid that he is going to say "no" rather than "yes". I am not in love with him. I don't have that kind of feelings for him anymore, not sure I have ever had them actually. I want him to say that yes, he loves Johanna. I want it for Johanna, for him and for the baby that they are going to have.

"She is growing into me," he replies quietly. Then he sighs. "It started out like a game between us. We met up sometimes, especially when we had a really stressful day. Just to talk at the beginning, then it became something more." He kicks a rock with his shoe. "But we were free to see other people." He takes a deep breath. "Only I did and she didn't."

"She loves you," I say quietly.

"Like a Peeta loves a Katniss," he replies and looks at me with a smirk on his face. "Have you ever heard of that saying?"

I scold at him. "Shut up, Gale," I hiss.

"It's true!" He raises his hands jokingly. "It's a saying that is fully in use in all of Panem."

"You are making stuff up," I accuse him, but I am not so sure myself.

"Maybe," he replies vaguely. "Ask Effie, she'll know."

I roll my eyes emphatically and he pushes playfully with his shoulder against mine.

"Gale?" I murmur when the silence has fallen once again around us.

"Mmm?"

"I think about you a lot too," I say, but before he can misunderstand me in any way, I add, "but I love Peeta."

He chuckles and I don't understand why, I am serious. "I know," he says.

"You do?"

He shrugs his shoulders again. "If you didn't you would never be marrying him in ten days," he replies simply. "Nobody can force you to do anything."

"President Snow could," I reply. Why I am trying to make things more complicated despite the fact that he is making my case is a mystery to me, but I feel obliged to set the record straight.

"He didn't succeed, though, did he?"

"Just because he changed his mind and decided to kill us before we would be able to get married," I say simply.

"And he failed at that too," says Gale. Then he rummages through his pocket and comes up with an envelope. "Before I forget," he adds, handing it to me. It is addressed to Mrs. and Mr. Mellark. "This is for you."

I look at the envelope suspiciously. "Shouldn't you give us presents on the day of our wedding?"

"That is not a present," he replies. "It's an invitation to _my_ wedding." I look at him with a befuddled expression, or that is what I suppose I am wearing on my face, I am befuddled inside. He smirks and continues, "Johanna asked me to give it to you personally."

I look at the envelope without opening it. "When is it?" I ask.

"Why don't you open it and find out?"

I glance at him and shake my head. "I want to open it with Peeta," I say. "There's his name here."

He nods and thinks that it is a good idea probably. "You have to come, Katniss, you know that, right?" he says urgently.

"Are you going to have it in District 12?" I ask hopefully.

"I'm afraid you will have to travel to District Two," he says, knowing my reluctance in moving around Panem. "In the fall. You'll see the baby and attend our wedding all at once."

I stand up and pocket the envelope. "Sounds amazing," I say, faking more enthusiasm than necessary. "I think we should go back. Peeta and Johanna will be wondering where we are." I grab the squirrels and the wild turkey and give him the honor of putting the dead deer over his shoulders.

I understand why Peeta suggested that his future bride and the young man that used to be in love with her should go hunting in the woods alone. My head is clearer than it was before, I know where I am and what I feel and I know that there is only one person that I can marry. And that person is not standing next to me.

xxx

Peeta and Johanna had apparently spent a wonderful morning together as well and I feel just a tad jealous about it. When Gale and I come back from the hunting, they appear to me like an idyllic family portrait. Peeta is checking the oven while Johanna is standing right next to him, laughing, looking interested and caressing her belly every now and then. There is music coming from the TV in the living room, probably Plutarch new singing program, and it is the perfect soundtrack to a perfect homely scene. I don't know why, but I can't envision Peeta and I in a scene like that.

When we walk into the house, I decide to unceremoniously throw the dead game on the table. I know that both Peeta and Johanna are not going to be affected by it, but I do it anyway in an unceremoniously way. "I hope we are not interrupting," I say slightly more coldly than intended. "We got—" My words are interrupted by Johanna, walking quickly past me with her hands on her nose, a greenish color spreading on her cheeks.

Gale puts the deer on the table and smiles. "Don't worry," he says to us, "it's just her sense of smell, apparently it is much more powerful now that she is pregnant." He turns to follow her. "I'll take care of her, she will just be puking and smelling soaps in your bathroom, I guess." Gale disappears from the kitchen.

I look at Peeta, feeling slightly guilty about Johanna. I imagine her throwing up in the bathroom, with Gale holding her hair and massaging her back. Peeta looks back at me and crosses his arms on his chest. "You had a good hunt?" he asks flatly, I am sure he detected a coldness in my voice when I walked in.

I nod. "I got three squirrels and a deer," I say, "Gale got the wild turkey."

"Good," he says quickly. "Did you and Gale talk?"

"Yes, we did," I reply dryly. "Did you and Johanna talk?" I think about it and add, "Did you talk about the baby? Did she let you touch her belly?" I know my tone is almost aggressive, but I feel somehow angry and betrayed. I was in the woods, clearing things up with Gale upon Peeta's suggestion, but apparently I got it all wrong. Peeta just wanted to play house with Johanna. I suppose the fact that she is pregnant is fascinating to him.

"As a matter of fact, she did," he replies seriously. "The baby kicked and I touched it."

I cross my own arms on my chest and for a moment I look at him straight in the eye, challenging him to tell me that it was great and that I need to experience it. He doesn't. So I just turn and walk away. "I'm going to take a shower," I say from the stairs. "I wouldn't want to cause any more trouble since I smell of dead animals."

xxx

I like hot showers. Lamb stew and hot showers are the only good memories I have from the Capitol. And now that Greasy Sae can cook lamb stew for me and that I have a shower with hot water running every time I want here in District 12, I think that there is no reason for me to go back to the Capitol, ever again. Not that there was before either. I scrub my skin forcefully, trying to get the stink off my every inch. I am shampooing my head when the door opens and closes, I know there is enough vapor to shed me from indiscreet eyes, but I cover up instinctively anyway. I can't see anything.

"Hey!" I say grumpily. "I hate be—"

"I know," Peeta interrupts me, "you hate being interrupted in the middle of your shower." I hear some noises of clothes that are taken off and left on the floor and a click that marks the fact that Peeta is taking off his leg.

"Peeta," I warn him. "I told you, no sex—"

"Your mother is at Effie's, apparently she just had the worst nervous breakdown since the war," he says, stepping into the shower with me, "and Johanna and Gale went home to get ready for tonight." I don't move and he continues. "Greasy Sae and her granddaughter are not yet here and Buttercup is outside." I have shampoo all over my eyes, so I can't see him, but I know he is sighing. "That means that we are alone."

I roll my eyes, but then remember that my eyes are closed. "So, you thought that it was a good idea to come in the shower with me?" I ask, some sort of flirting tone in my voice. "Right after we had a fight?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, hugging me. I can feel his naked body against mine, but I don't move my arms from my chest. "But you had a fight, I didn't."

I grunt in reply. Finally, I decide to wash away the shampoo from my hair and face and look at him. As I move away from Peeta, I feel he has to lean against the wall to stand. We have installed a chair in the shower, apparently that is common in the Capitol, where people are just too lazy to stand while washing themselves. Peeta needs it because the shower is the only place where he has to take off his prosthetic leg and, whereas in other situations his balance is quite perfect anyway, in there it gets slippery and he could fall down any time. As I wash away the soap and the water from my eyes, I look at him and find out that he is leaning against the wall with his hands. Completely naked in front of me, just like I am.

"I thought that you suggested that Gale and I should go hunting so that we could… discuss our situation," I say, looking hardly at him.

"Yes, that is exactly what I meant," he replies candidly.

I grunt again. "Yes, you just wanted to spend some time with Johanna."

"What are you talking about?"

I shake my head angrily. "I saw the two of you in the kitchen. You are just… the perfect family portrait. I bet you love the fact that she is pregnant…"

He sits on the chair because he doesn't seem to be able stand any longer. "Okay, don't get mad, but you are wrong," he says. "I did want you and Gale to work things out for the sake of this wedding. Johanna just happened to have to wait for your return with me." I open my mouth to reply, but he doesn't let me. "And yes, I think it's great that she is pregnant. And even if I might be just a little be envious of the fact that Gale is becoming a father, I am not jealous of their relationship, okay?" He stretches a hand towards me. "They don't have what we have."

I look at him without moving and he keeps going. "Johanna said that Gale calls her Catnip more often than he calls her with her name," he explains. "I guess that's not what you want to hear from the person you are having a baby with."

I don't reply and he grabs my hand, pulling me towards him. "Listen, I know, you are nervous, the wedding is getting closer, your mother has a boyfriend, your best friend is having a baby with your other friend, Effie is being a pain with her neurotic behavior and Haymitch has been missing for two days." What? I didn't know about Effie and I hadn't noticed that Haymitch has been gone, I feel guilty for being so self-centered. "I am nervous myself, but," he continues, smiling, "Greasy Sae is coming in twenty minutes and… I really need only five…"

I can't help sighing and rolling my eyes theatrically, as if I want to let him know that I find this unacceptable and at the same time that I actually don't. He really needs only five minutes – probably less if it weren't for the fact that we had to keep shifting position because of the water on our faces – but so do I. He pulls me towards him and I bend to kiss him, his hand leaves mine and goes to my hip, the other one mimics it on my other hip. When he breaks the kiss he looks into my eyes before he guides me towards him, I raise my leg to position myself on his legs, I can see his erection and know perfectly well where to sit. To my surprise, he shakes his head, he turns me around and now I am facing the other side of the shower. His hands guide me towards him, and I finally find myself straddling him, only with my back against his torso. I can feel his erection against my bottom and between his hands and my hip movements, he is inside of me in a few seconds. It is new, we have never had steamy encounters in the shower, but I admit that, despite the annoyance of the water – that I don't dare turning off in case Greasy Sae is early –, it is quite pleasurable. I feel his lips against my shoulder and he murmurs, "Katniss, you should move." I notice that yes, I should be the one moving since he is pinned against the chair by my body. I tentatively start to go up and down, pushing myself up with my toes and my hands on his thighs. I can hear him moaning against my skin and I like his hot breath against my naked skin. When I try to do something different and move my hips in circles instead of pushing myself up, he grabs my stomach and hugs me tightly. "Do that again," he murmurs breathlessly. I oblige and he hugs me even tighter, pushing me down towards him and now moving himself like I just did. It's only a matter of seconds now, our movements become more erratic and I don't even know which way I am going. As I get closer to my orgasm, my body becomes more rigid, my muscles tense up and I let him guide me the way he likes. I come first, moaning loudly when I do, Peeta reaches his own orgasm when my walls starts squeezing him. Completely lost in the sensation, I bend over, my body now limp, I am happy that Peeta is there to support me and pulling me back up and close to him. We catch our breaths and when I feel steady again, I stretch my arm behind my head and encircle his neck, bringing his face towards mine to kiss him.

"I'm happy I'm marring you," I whisper against his lips. I rest my forehead on his temple and I really wish that Greasy Sae is late, because I don't want to move anytime soon.

"I love you, Katniss."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note: **Honestly, I love the plot in this chapter, but I don't like the way it turned out. It's written in a horrible way, I admit that. I don't know why, though. So I love it and loathe it at the same time. Let me know what you think, even though I don't think that anybody here reads these Author's Notes anyway... I could as well write my credit card pin number here...

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
**

Dinner with Gale and Johanna is good, if a little messy. Peeta does most of the conversation; Johanna does most of the eating and Gale does his best to be a polite guest and get interested in Peeta's drawings. I do my best to talk with Johanna about babies and pregnancies and to avoid questions about my future children. All in all, it is an enjoyable evening and I am glad that they are here. It is nice to have someone our own age and that we know so well right here in District 12, even if it is only for a short time. In the evening, they don't leave too late, Johanna has to rest, even though she is the one who doesn't want to go.

The moment they leave I finally notice something. My mother is still not back from wherever Peeta said she was. Effie's, apparently.

"What were you saying about Effie?" I ask him, as I collect dirty dishes from the table. "Is my mother at the hotel with her?"

Peeta turns on the water and starts to wash the pans and glasses with a good dose of soap. "I guess so," he replies, "she had a nervous breakdown this afternoon, while you were still in the woods. She called from the hotel, I honestly couldn't understand a word she was saying." He grabs the dishes from my hands and puts them in the sink. "She was crying and then said something about your mother, asking if she still was a doctor and she said that she needed a doctor." He passes me soapy dishes and I rinse them. "Your mother took the phone from my hand, she knew it was a nervous breakdown straight away and was on her way with a calm look on her face, so I didn't think too much of it." He stops what he is doing and looks out of the window. "Now that she is not back, yet, I am starting to get a little worried, though."

I am worried too, what could have been so serious that required my mother to stay there all this time? I decide to go to the hotel in case my mother is not back before we finish the dishes. "What were you saying about Haymitch?" I ask, placing the rinsed dishes on the counter to dry.

Peeta looks at me and smiles. "I can't believe you haven't noticed it," he replies, "he's been missing for two days."

"Missing?" I ask. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

"Gone, disappeared," he says, "I can't find him."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you sure he is not passed out in one of the closets? Have you checked the bathroom?" I ask matter-of-factly. "Have you checked the geese fence?"

Peeta chuckles. "I guess I would have noticed if—"

He is interrupted by the front door opening and my mother walking into the kitchen, a soft smile on her face as she sees us. "You had Gale and Johanna over for dinner," she says, first thing first. "I hope there's something left over for me."

"Of course," replies Peeta, drying his hands and grabbing a clean plate. He opens the lid of a pan and puts two spoonfuls of lamb stew on it. "Greasy Sae has cooked for an army, apparently." He puts the plate in front of my mother and pours her some water.

"How's Effie?" I ask her as I start drying the dishes.

My mother smiles softly. "Oh, she is fine, now," she replies, "I gave her some herbs and put her to sleep, but had to stay with her to see if she had calmed down when she woke up."

"Had she?" I ask.

"Yes, she was feeling much better and back to her usual Capitol behavior," my mother replies, slightly grumpily. I suppose she uses the word 'Capitol' as a synonym for 'annoying'.

"And she is there alone, now?" asks Peeta. "Is that safe?"

My mother finally brings a spoonful of stew to her mouth before replying. "She is not alone," she says, "I left her in good hands." She washes the lamb down with some water. "The hotel manager is there. He has to call me, in case anything happens."

I place the dried dishes and cutlery on the table for Peeta to put away. I like that we do things together in the kitchen, it's very homely. I smile involuntarily at the thought. I want to ask my mother what had caused Effie's breakdown, but I suspect an indefinite number of things: being away from the Capitol, deciding what to wear for the wedding, keeping the whole thing secret… I haven't seen Effie since the day she arrived, I am starting to think that maybe she wants to be a bit more involved in the preparations. For now, I am happy she is all right. I sigh. Look at me, caring about Effie. If someone had told me that I would be worrying for her the day she had reaped Prim, I would have never believed them.

"So, Effie is all right," I say, "now all we have to do is finding Haymitch."

My mother looks at me. "Haymitch is at his house," she replies. "Can I have some bread, Peeta?"

I glance at Peeta, who frowns back at me. "Is he?" he asks, passing the bread. "I haven't seen him in two days."

"I don't know what to tell you," she replies quietly, dunking the bread in the stew. "He is home now."

"Where did he go?" asks Peeta, insisting on the fact that he thought that Haymitch was missing.

My mother looks at her plate with interest and replies, "I think you have to ask him. I don't think he wants to reply, though."

"Why?" Peeta continues. "Where would he go here in District 12?" He is like a dog with a bone, and I think he does that because he is worried for Haymitch.

"Maybe he went to buy our wedding present," I suggest, a grin on my face. "I believe that he is obliged by law to get us a fantastic gift since he is the one that is going to give me away."

Peeta finally smiles and stops pestering my mother about Haymitch's whereabouts. I am happy that for once I am the one who lightens the mood in here. "I don't know if he is required by law, but we should tell him that, just in case…"

My mother smiles too and I am glad that now we can all go to bed with less things on our minds. And tonight I can actually sleep. In my bed. With Peeta. Just sleep. No nightmares. It sounds good. I smile too.

xxx

I am so wrong. As always. One might think I am starting to get used to being wrong, but it is not exactly like that. It slightly hurts my pride every time. Effie doesn't want me to stay with her and talk to her and let her organize my life. As a matter of fact, when I visit her, she is in a hurry to get me out of her room. I feel a little relieved and at the same time a little rejected. I decide to indulge in the pleasure of aggravating her and stay a little longer than she would like, though, after all I walked all the way to the hotel. So, I slump down on a chair and look around the room when she says that she is very busy.

"I hope you are feeling better than yesterday," I say, even though I can see that she is absolutely fine. "My mother said that you had a breakdown or something." I look at her a bit guilty. "I hope you are not overworking yourself for the wedding." Even though I have no evidence that she is doing anything for the wedding at all, I have abandoned the idea of her missing the Capitol, since she looks perfectly at her place there.

Effie smiles softly. "Oh no, I decided what to wear, I decided on the present, I know how to wear my hair and your mother and Haymitch filled me in with the details of the wedding, so I know everything is under control." She powders her nose and I see that she is wearing less make-up than usual. "I also talked to the prep team and they should arrive three days before the wedding." She shoots me a meaningful look. "Just in case there is extra work to do on you." She raises her eyebrows as to say that she knows that there is extra work to do on me.

"Sounds good," I reply, smiling despite the not so veiled criticism at my current physical appearance. "Then you are busy doing what?"

She seems to think about it a little bit longer than appropriate. "I have to write my review for this hotel," she says, seeming outraged that I forgot that she has such an important a job.

Right, because this is a hotel. I almost forgot that too. Not my fault, though, it doesn't look like a hotel at all. Effie's room is small and not a bit Capitol-like, I don't think her review will be very nice. I am wrong again, apparently. Effie explains to me that the hotel is based on a new concept, something that is in fashion right now at the Capitol: a bare, stripped down of every comfort, incredibly popular conception. Apparently it was Paylor who wanted this, according to her, it is a way for the Capitol citizens to experience life in the Districts. There is at least one in every District. The hotels are really much better than what the life in the Districts used to be, though, they are closer to what life is now. In a way it's what the Capitol came up with to unite the country even more. Naturally, Effie says that I don't have to worry, that there will be a luxury hotel coming out of nowhere in a few months time. Not everybody likes to give up comforts when they are on holiday. She is an enthusiast of this place, though.

Effie's ramblings about this hotel and Panem hotels in general is cut short when there is a knock on the door. Effie jumps to her feet and hurriedly checks herself in the mirror. When she speaks again, she is actually screaming. "I'm coming!" Then she turns towards me and keeps on screaming. "Katniss, I think you should go, darling!" She moves towards the door, without opening it. "This must be the owner of hotel, he needs to show me a couple of things around the place." She smiles broadly while I finally stand up and make my way to the door. "I will see you tomorrow, how about that?" She opens the door and I walk out. The door closes at my back just as hurriedly as she had opened it. I look at the door for a moment, confused, and finally make my way down the corridor and towards the hall.

It is only when I am walking towards my house that I remember that there was nobody standing in the corridor. I find the thing just a little bit strange.

xxx

Annie and her son are the next two guests to arrive. For once we are not waiting for them at the station, but it's not because we don't want to, but because Annie arrives two days earlier than we expected and doesn't tell us. Peeta and I comment that it's a wonderful surprise, Haymitch says that she is crazy, she must have forgotten the date, we should have expected that from her, and Effie says that it's a great inconvenience.

Annie and her son, Josh, are absolutely sparkling and lighthearted in everything they do. Josh is as handsome as his father was, resembling Finnick in an almost painful way. If I were Annie I would probably tear up every time I looked at him, a constant reminder of his father and the fact that he was no longer there. He has dark green eyes like his mother and bronze-colored hair like Finnick, and his little hands are quick at grabbing anything that passes in front of him.

When Annie rings at our door, the little boy in her arms, Peeta is the one who opens the door. Annie screams happily and the boy cries too and in a moment there is mayhem in the house. Peeta is overjoyed by the vivacity of Annie's son and, as Annie, my mother and I have each a cup of hot tea in the living room, he plays with him on the floor. Looking like a child himself.

"It is so good to be here," says Annie, "even though there is no sea here and it's much colder than in District Four." She sips tea from her cup. "I am so happy to be at your wedding, Katniss, you were at mine, it's just so nice. I thought you two were already married though."

I cough some tea back into the cup. "Yeah," I reply, while my mother smiles. "Lots of people think that. But let's talk about you, Annie. How have you been?"

Annie smiles broadly. "Busy," she says, "with a little child there's a lot of work to do. I am also teaching him to swim."

I look at the child, who is now lying on Peeta's stomach. "But he is so young."

Annie laughs. "He is almost a year old," she replies. "He has been swimming since the day he was born."

I suppose that's a tradition from District Four. If I had a child I would never let him go close to the water until I know he can swim. I know there is no logic in what I think, but still, I reckon that's dangerous for a toddler. Luckily I will never have children, so I don't have to think about this.

"So, where are we staying until the wedding?" she asks serenely.

I look at her to make sure she is not joking. She is not. "I'm sorry, Annie, I thought every guest had a place where to stay." I look at Peeta who is completely ignoring the conversation and is now making faces to make Josh laugh. "Peeta," I call him, "Annie has a place where to stay, doesn't she?"

Peeta looks back at me and stands up with the child in his arms. "Of course she does," says Peeta matter-of-factly. He tries to think hard at it. "With Haymitch?"

I shake my head and raise my eyebrows. "No," I say, remembering Haymitch's rule: "_No crazy people in my house." _She must have a house rented somewhere, maybe near Gale's. "Don't we have a list of places where the people are staying."

Peeta looks at me and I know he wants to say that the guests should take note of where they are going to stay, but he doesn't say it, not in front of Annie. "No, but I guess there is a place for her to stay. I think we should check the house renting center and in case they don't have her name there, she can stay here." He looks at Annie and smiles. "We would be happy if you stayed here."

But I think that she would be more comfortable if she had her own house and I think Annie thinks that too. Peeta checks the list of useful numbers that has been sent out to all the people registered with a phone in District 12. There are numbers from outside the District too. The house renting center number is naturally on it. It is useful.

Peeta digits the number and the call is transferred in no time. "Hello, yes, this is Peeta Mellark calling, I would like to know if you have a reservation for Annie Odair and her son." He waits for an answer. "Hmm, I see. Yes, the thing is she is a bit early, I was wondering if the house was available today." Another pause. "Well, right now would be really nice." He hums in assent. "Okay, thank you for your help." He hangs up and looks at Annie. "They say that the house that you booked is not available today, but it will be from tomorrow." He looks at me and then back at Annie. "How about, you spend the night here and tomorrow we help you settle down in the house in the Seam?"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to disturb you," she says.

"It's no disturb at all," says Peeta, still holding Josh in his arms. "We'll have fun." He raises Josh above his head and grimaces at him. Josh burst into laughter and stretches his tiny hands to touch Peeta's face. I smile without even noticing.

"Isn't he cute?" asks Annie dreamily.

"He is," I agree, "Annie, come with me, I'll show you your room while the _kids_ are playing." I say, teasing Peeta who sticks out his tongue at me and makes Josh laugh again.

xxx

Minus three days to the wedding. I am starting to get nervous. I have never liked to be in the middle of the attention, and I soon will be once again. Coming down the aisle of the newly restored Justice Building during this new and improved type of wedding ceremony that is so unfamiliar to us. It takes too many elements from the frivolous wedding ceremonies of the Capitol. Just like Annie and Finnick's. So pompous and unnecessary. Haymitch will walk me down the aisle, there will be a ceremony and then a reception with music and so much food we will all feel too full to do anything but sleep afterwards. My prep team is arriving this afternoon and I have to start my beautify process – which, according to Effie, will take three days to complete – and then the wedding, starting at five in the afternoon this Saturday, May 1st. Paylor is actually coming to celebrate the wedding but Dalton is still invited, as a guest, the two of them, plus the Hawthorne family, Plutarch and Beetee are all arriving the day before the wedding. The Hawthorne family is staying with Haymitch; Beetee and Dalton have rented houses in the Seam, while Plutarch and Paylor have booked rooms at the hotel. The prep team is staying at the hotel too. I have heard that in the Capitol they have rehearsal ceremonies for the weddings so that everybody knows what to do and when to do it. I have decided that this is a stupid enough thing to do. I don't mind if the music starts a bit earlier than expected or if Haymitch trips over his feet when he is walking, bringing me down with him. Just want it to get over with.

The door opens and I see Peeta coming into the kitchen. "Well, you were gone for a long time," I say to him from over my third cup of steaming hot chocolate. I probably shouldn't be drinking so much of the delicious liquid, I haven't tried the dress in more than a week. That would be a funny surprise… not fitting into my dress the day of my wedding.

Peeta doesn't reply. He looks blankly in front of him. He goes towards the kitchen sink and splashes some cold water all over his pale face.

"Peeta, are you okay?" I ask as he turns and dries his face in a cloth.

He finally looks at me. "Katniss," he says, his voice raspy, "remember when we had sex for the first time and I told you that you made me a man?"

I look at him weirdly, not knowing where he is going with this. "Yes…"

"Well, today I found out that there is a part of me that is still a little boy," he says gravely, "and that little boy is crying in a corner of my mind now."

I am more confused than before. I stand up and go to him, I place a hand over his shoulder and squeeze gently. He turns towards me and hugs me tightly and despite the fact that he is taller than me for once I feel like I am a giant. He is not shaking though, he is quite calm actually. And now that I think about it, his voice is calm too. As if he is acting overdramatically.

"I thought you went to Haymitch's to get his set of pans," I say. Earlier in the week, Greasy Sae complained that she didn't have enough pans and frying pans to cook for the whole party attending the wedding. Not even if she put together my set, Peeta's and hers. So, the only other person that we knew that owned a set of pans – they came with the house – and didn't need them was Haymitch and Peeta had left two hours before to ask him if he could borrow them. "I didn't expect you to be gone for so long."

Peeta steps back and looks at me in the eyes. "I saw something," he whispers, "something that I didn't want to see."

"What? What did you see?" I ask him urgently. I'm worrying now.

He looks at me seriously. "Katniss, I saw something terrible," he says, then adds, his voice hushed, "do you want to know what happened to me since the moment I left the house this morning? Do you want me to repeat every single word I heard? Describe every single action and sound?"

"Peeta… what?" I ask him, grabbing his arms. "What happened? Just tell me."

He looks gravely at me and takes a deep breath. "Very well," he says, "sit down and I'll tell you everything."

I sit and he sits in front of me, I offer him my hot chocolate and he grabs the cup and drinks avidly from it. When he puts the cup back on the table he has a little chocolate mustache and I can't help smiling. I decide that I can't take anything he says seriously if he looks so funny, so I take a napkin and clean his upper lip.

"Thank you," he says. "Here we go." He takes a deep breath and starts his story. "It all started this morning, when I left to go to Haymitch's. I knocked on his door and there was no answer. I assumed he was away."

"You always assume that, Peeta," I say, without being able to restrain myself. "I think I see where this is going."

"Believe me, you have no clue where this is going," he says seriously.

I wave my hand. "You walked in and found Haymitch passed out, naked in a poodle of his vomit?"

"What? No!" he says sincerely disgusted. "Did that happen to you?"

I laugh. "I'm just teasing you." But yes, it happened to me.

He has to take another sip of hot chocolate to continue. "Anyway, I walked in and everything was silent. I called Haymitch's name a couple of times, but he never replied, so I just started to look for the set of pans by myself. There was no sign of them in the kitchen, and all the times I have been there, I couldn't recall having seen them at all." He taps the cup with his fingers. "But then I remembered that when we first moved in, the kitchenware was all stashed in the pantry. So I went to the pantry and, naturally, the light wasn't working." He sighs. "I had to leave the door open to see something in there, and well… to avoid being locked in. But the problem was that I had to move a lot of alcohol before I could reach anything at all. All the objects that came with the house were right behind a huge collection of wine and liquor bottles."

"I thought he didn't have any alcohol, right now," I say surprised. Haymitch said he would have stayed sober until the wedding.

"I think they are for the wedding," Peeta says simply, "he said he would take care of that. The drinks." He seems to think about that and adds, "there's enough for at least our wedding and ten anniversaries if you ask me though."

"Is that what upset you?" I ask, starting to think that he has really overreacted to just something simple like that.

"No," he replies dryly, "let me go on." He starts fidgeting. "I've been there only a couple of minutes when someone knocks on the door. I would have answered it, if it weren't for the fact that I was almost reaching the set of pans behind the liquor, I was on my fours and my foot was actually stuck under a set of knives that fell on it. Luckily, it was not my good foot. Plus, I knew that it was unlocked anyway." He sips some more hot chocolate. "In fact, the doors opens and… guess who comes in?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Annie?" I figure that could be a good answer because bedlam would be ensured with Annie and Haymitch in the same house. Maybe she was looking for another place to stay.

"Effie," he says emphatically.

I look at him blankly. "What's so weird about it?" I ask him. "I'm sure she wanted to give her opinion about what to he has to wear for the wedding."

Peeta looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. "Hold that thought," he says, "anyway, somehow, Haymitch arrives in the kitchen." He shakes his head. "I knock and call him and he doesn't reply, Effie arrives and he is there in five seconds." He sighs. "Well, to be honest, he says that he thought it was me at the door, because he heard my voice. During all this time, I am still in the pantry, still too focused on doing what I am doing without knocking over the liquor and the knives to let them know that I am there. At that very moment when I am almost reaching for the pans, which are still piled in their plastic, by the way, someone closes the door of the pantry."

"Well, you called after them, right?" I ask simply.

"No, I didn't notice that they had closed the door, because I had been behind all the wine and completely in the dark already," he replies, "so it is only when I manage to grab the pans and crawl back towards the door that I become aware of the fact that I am stuck in the pantry." He starts fidgeting nervously. "I was almost going to tell them that I was in there, when I start noticing that they are talking and I try to make out the conversation."

"You were eavesdropping."

He looks uncomfortable. "Involuntarily, yes."

I smile. "Oh, come on, Peeta, what kind of things might they ever have said to each other?" I mimic Effie's accent. "What color do you think I should wear with my hair?" Then my voice deepens and I try to sound like Haymitch. "Oh, I don't think I can wait until the wedding to get drunk, do you think I can have a glass of whiskey today?"

Peeta raises his eyebrows. "Almost," he says, "when I start to pay attention to them, Effie is saying that she has missed him last night."

I stare at Peeta, ready to hear a 'I got you!' coming from him. It doesn't come. He looks at me seriously. "Missed him in what sense?" I ask in a whisper.

He avoids my question. "Haymitch says that he missed her too, and I quote, 'he was cold without her'." My heart is beating a bit more furiously now. I have a very weird feeling about this. "Then he says that probably he was cold because he hasn't been drinking in almost two weeks, so if he had been allowed to have a snifter of liquor he would have been just fine. And he laughs at his own joke. At this point, Effie says that then he should drink every single day of his life because he will die alone and of a terrible death." He taps his fingers on the table. "I can see them through the door." He nods towards the door of our pantry. "You know, it has those slits to let the air come in and humidity go out." It does have slits and behind our door it's all completely dark, so I know they could not see him. "But now I really don't want them to know that I am there." He sighs. "Effie turns towards the door, but Haymitch grabs her arm. He says that she is an uptight, annoying Capitol tart and that she should loosen her corset, she replies that he is an alcoholic, that smells like geese and has greasy hair."

"That sounds more like them," I say, heartened.

"Indeed," he replies calmly, "then they kiss."

I make a sound that is half a moan half a cry.

"Haymitch kisses her, she kisses him back," he goes on, "he grabs her wig and throws it on the floor – by the way, Effie's real hair color is pink. Did you know that? – she starts unbuttoning his shirt, she murmurs that she is not wearing a corset anyway. He is surprised to see that she is not even wearing underwear and she—"

"Stop!" I say weakly. "Are you serious? Is this some kind of pre-wedding joke?"

"I am serious," he replies quietly. "And don't ask me to stop because you said you wanted to hear everything." I moan again and he continues, "Where was I? Oh yes, the corset part, he grabs her by her waist and sits her on the table." He looks at me. "They are naked now, so this is the part where I stopped looking. In fact, I am not sure what happened. But from the sounds, I can tell you that the strength of table was seriously tested – and by the way, we are never going to eat at Haymitch's again – and that Effie is loud when she is right in the middle of sex, while Haymitch sounds more like a pig."

I open my mouth to say something but Peeta raises his hand to stop me.

"They were there for an hour, Katniss," he says, "a whole hour, and when they left the kitchen it was not because they were done, they went upstairs, because Effie said that a lady like her could only stand a hard board under her delicate skin for so long." He sighs. "By the time they left I was crouching in a corner, emotionally damaged and with scars that will never go away."

I honestly can't help smiling a little. I know that the situation – even though, technically, it's really none of our business – is quite befuddling, but Peeta's way of telling it is just too hilarious for me to stay serious. "How did you get out of there?"

He blushes. "Well, I didn't move for a long while, too worried that they would come back. At first, I didn't think I would ever get out of there, but then I decided that I didn't want to die in the pantry of my alcoholic neighbor three days before my wedding, so I stood up and found out that the door was actually broken, so all I had to do was push it and I found myself in the kitchen. I leapt for the door and closed it as silently as possible behind me." His eyes are those of a scared kid. "They were still going on at it, Katniss," he whispers. "I could hear them from the kitchen. Effie is just so loud." He shakes his head. "Honestly, I couldn't believe my ears and eyes. Haymitch and Effie." He looks at the empty cup. "Who would ever thought it?"

Before I can reply, something dawns in my mind. "Oh my," I say, covering my mouth with my hands, "we should have known!" I stand up and place my hands on the table. "Haymitch was wearing lipstick that day, no not Haymitch, it was Effie's lipstick on his lips and that's why his glass had lipstick on the edge, and Effie had her wig all to the left, and Haymitch must be the cause of her breakdown." I nod to myself. "When Haymitch was missing, I'm sure he was with Effie, and she was waiting for him at the hotel, that's why she wanted me to go!"

Peeta is not entirely following me, half of the things I am saying he doesn't even know about. When they happened, I considered them too insignificant to be worth telling. But the signs were there, we were just too oblivious to notice.

"Oh no!" says Peeta suddenly. I look at him and he looks back at me, depressed. "I forgot the pans!"


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Note: **Okay, have to pay attention at what I write here, because people actually do read my AN's. So, let's see. I wrote this chapter because of a review that someone left a few days ago, about Johanna being all happy/peppy. Well, that got me thinking, and yes, she was absolutely OOC (even though I think that pregnancy hormones are the only good excuse for OOCness) so I decided to give her some drama. Also, there is a cliffhanger at the end of this chapter, man I missed those! I love cliffhangers and finally got to write one here! Me is happy. Okay, enjoy this chapter! I did!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven  
**

I knock on the bathroom door. "Johanna," I say, "honestly, this makes no sense at all. I am the one getting married in two hours." I sigh. "If anything, I am the one who should lock herself in the bathroom!"

Somehow that doesn't help the situation, I only gain a kind of that-is-not-funny look from Peeta, but Johanna doesn't reply. I can only hear her sobbing even louder than before. I sigh loudly too, hopefully she will hear me and probably the fact that she is… gone out of her mind on the day of my wedding will start to kick in her brain.

Gale leans against the door and crosses his arms on his chest. "I am so sorry," he says for the umpteenth time. "I really don't know what—"

"Yes, we noticed that," says Flavius, a warm hair curler in his hands, his lips a thin line over his face. Behind him Venia and Octavia look just as irritated as he is towards the whole situation. I can hear Effie's voice from outside my bedroom, where we are all standing.

"How is that she had to lock herself in Katniss' bathroom?" she is saying out loud. "With all the bathrooms that there are between the Seam and this house, she has to lock herself in the bathroom where Katniss' veil and dress are." She stomps her heels on the floor. "Why does Katniss keep her dress and veil in the bathroom anyway?"

I slump down on the floor and cross my arms too, my back against the bathroom door. "I didn't want Peeta to see it!" I reply loud enough for Effie to hear me from the corridor.

"Wrinkles, Katniss!" screams Effie. "Vapor equals wrinkles!"

Venia twists the eyelash curler she is holding. "She is kind of right," she whispers to nobody in particular. I shoot her an evil look. I really don't need this right now.

What I need is everybody to disappear while I get back to bed and sleep through the rest of the day. Or the rest of my life, really. Instead, here I am, sitting on the floor, in my gown, with my hair all up with rollers of various sizes and my face is still completely make-up-less. I look much better than I did three days ago, though. Effie was right, I needed time to complete my beautification process. Flavius, Octavia and Venia were even less optimistic than Effie, the first thing they said when they saw me was that I should have arranged their arrival at least a week earlier. At least they have no problems being sincere with me. Not that there has ever been a time when they have tried to lie to me in order to make me feel better about my appearance. It has always been crystal clear that I was not naturally beautiful. Especially according to Capitol standards. Maybe – well, hopefully – Peeta disagrees with them.

I can imagine people starting to get ready for the wedding. Even Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, Beetee and Dalton, Paylor and Plutarch. Those are the only ones who are not standing in my house, or wondering how I will manage to get ready for the wedding. Octavia, Flavius and Venia are on the verge of a breakdown, Effie is already there and Haymitch's behavior is not helping since he is walking around the house making bad jokes because he thinks – and I quote – he will "lighten the mood". My mother has tried to reach out to Johanna first, but she miserably failed when her medical approach did not give any results at all, au contraire, Johanna had started a small session of screaming against everybody and everything. When Haymitch said that she was crazy out loud, I figured she heard him because we heard something landing on the door heavily. Gale hasn't said anything and that not only irritated me but also Peeta, even though he didn't say a word about it. Peeta seemed to have been the only one able to get a positive response from Johanna, she replied with words, scattered answers but words nonetheless, to his questions about the weather and about music, but after a while he lost her. My prep team didn't help much, but at least they didn't make things worse. We decided to keep Annie away from Johanna, and so we did with Delly, whose livelihood was unnerving not only for Johanna, but for me too at this very moment.

"How did this start, again?" Peeta asks Gale.

Gale looks at Peeta seriously, almost with hostility, probably trying to see if Peeta's expression is accusing in any way. It isn't, I think at this very moment we are all more interested into finding a solution rather than get mad at whoever started this.

"I don't know how this started," says Gale, "when she woke up this morning she was fine." He sighs. "Then she started to get quieter and I know that when she does, there is a catastrophe around the corner. And in fact she left the house without a word and when I noticed that she was gone it was already too late. I couldn't find her, until you came to look for me." He nods towards Peeta. "And then it's just what you told me, that she burst into your house, into your room and into the bathroom and locked herself in." He shrugs his shoulders. "Why has she been acting like this? I don't know. Has she done this before? Yes, indeed. Is it my fault? I am not sure." He glares at Peeta. "Would you like to know something else?"

Peeta glares back at him, but doesn't reply. I sigh and try to listen with my ear pressed against the door. In the bathroom, there is no noise at all. I knock tentatively and on the other side something crashes on the floor, probably my toothbrush holder.

"Okay," I say, standing up. "That is enough." I walk towards the door, but Gale jumps in front of me before I can walk out of the bedroom.

"What do you want to do?" he asks, a bit worriedly. I think that he doesn't want to be left alone dealing with her, but I really can't feel sorry for him at this moment.

I look at him seriously. "Well," I start, "we are lucky that the only tree in our garden is right in front of the bathroom window."

Gale frowns. "And we are lucky that the lady of the house is the best tree climber in District 12?"

I smile. "Exactly." Peeta doesn't even try to stop me and Gale moves from the door. I walk past Effie, who looks at me as if to say that if I hurt myself she will kill me personally; Haymitch who mutters something about young, mad people from other Districts; my mother who tells me to be careful and other people who don't even know what is really going on.

I walk outside. What I sight I must be, in my gown and with rollers in my hair, I walk around the house and discard my slippers next the tree. I look up at the oak that is standing right in front of me. I have never climbed it, never had a reason really. Why would I do it anyway? I have never had a crazy young lady locked in my bathroom less than two hours away from my wedding. Oh, well, I do now. I try to study the oak before I decide what strategy to adopt for the climbing. It is a young tree, small trunk even though it is tall enough to reach the roof of the house. Granted, our house is not too tall itself. I try to decide what branches I am sure will support me, but I am not sure about most of them. Well, I have to take into consideration the fact that I have been fasting for three days – thank you to my prep team – so, probably I weight a little less than I think. Probably I am also weaker than I think though.

"You okay, Catnip?"

I look up and Gale is looking down at me from my bedroom window.

"Yes," I reply, stretching my arm to grab the first branch and pushing myself up. It cracks as soon as whole weight is on it, but it seems it is not going to break anytime soon. I hope that I only have to make my way up, because if everything goes well, Johanna won't refuse to open the window to me. My second thought as I push myself even higher is if I am wearing underwear at all. The answer is no, so I have to reach the window quickly before people start noticing me and a crowd is formed in the garden. I stretch my arms towards the next branch and my gown gets caught in the one that I've just left behind. I have to get back down and disentangle it before I can continue. It's either that or I will be left naked on the tree. I guess that's even worse than be seen like this.

The window is getting closer, though, and as soon as I free my gown from the branch I only need to climb a few more branches to reach it. I can see Gale and Peeta's faces looking at me from the other window. Now they are both silent and stare at me intently. They know I know how to climb a tree, but they somehow don't feel comfortable enough with me doing it barefoot and with no underwear. I pay attention not to flash anything that I would not want to flash them – especially to Gale – but this means having to focus on multiple things at once. I snort as my gown rolls up a little and I push it down. At least, no roller has been caught in the tree. Yet.

Two more branches, two more pushes with my legs and two more pulling with my arms and I am at the window. It is only a few inches away from the branch where I am crouching and I stretch my right arm to knock on the windowpane. At first there is no reply from inside the bathroom. I can't even see anything from that angle and the fact that there are white curtains doesn't help. I knock again and I glance over towards my room's window where now there is only Peeta to look back at me. He smiles and gives me a thumb up.

I am about to knock another time when the window opens and my hand pushes against thin air. I lose my balance and almost fall forward, towards the end of the branch. I simultaneously hear a "Katniss!" screamed by a very distressed Peeta and I feel a hand that grabs my wrist. The hand is soft, but strong, and it manages to pull me up and towards the house so that now I am half way through the window, my chest pressed against the wall, my arms are firmly grabbing the first thing that I can find (which is more wall, this time from the inside of the bathroom), my legs are dangling and I don't seem able to manage to reach the tree branch with my toes.

"I got you," says Johanna panting. "I am not letting you go."

I think this would make a wonderful headline for the Capitol magazines. The Girl on Fire falls off a tree while she is trying to get into the bathroom window the day of her wedding. Johanna wouldn't even have to be nominated. I hope someone will tell the journalists that I was just being brave and wanted to save my friend. Or my wedding really.

I can feel her having difficulties pulling me through the window. I push on my elbows and dig my toes into the wall, but they keep sliding. I feel Johanna's arms gliding towards my shoulders and then hooking under my armpits. She pulls and I push and we finally fall on the floor of the bathroom. Luckily, I don't fall on top of her, but right next to her belly.

"Ouch," I say, massaging my right shoulder, the one I landed on. I open my eyes and look at Johanna, who is lying on her back. She looks like a giant turtle on its carapace, unable to stand up because of her belly. This is the woman who killed Cashmere in the Third Quarter Quell and other tributes during her first Hunger Games. She looked just helpless now.

"Are you okay?" I ask, even though she should be the one asking me. I get on my feet and stretch a hand towards her, but she slaps it away.

"I am wonderful," she hisses and then starts to cry and scream and bang her fists on the floor. "I am absolutely fantastic."

I throw myself at her and grab her arms and pin them down. Whatever she is doing I suppose it's not good for the baby. "Johanna," I say, "will you calm down already?"

She shakes her head forcefully and stomps her feet on the floor. Screaming something at my face, words that I don't understand. I decide to take the situation into my hands and do what I think will be most effective to snap her out of this state. With difficulty, I pin her hands into one of mine and slap her forcefully on her cheek.

It takes her a little while to understand what is happening, she stops screaming and trashing around and a surprised expression paints on her face. She looks at me, unable to believe that I had just slapped her in her condition. I can hardly believe it myself, but now I am glad I did. She is calm and a bit surprised, but mostly silent and ready to listen to me. Her cheek is becoming redder and redder though.

"If I let go of your hands, will you stop this shenanigans?" I ask her vehemently. "Will you tell me what's going on?"

She glowers but nods and I finally help her up. Once she is on her feet, I grab the chair that she has thrown against the door and let her sit on it. I sit on the tub edge and look at her expectantly, but when she doesn't reply I start to think that I need to get this over with unless I want to get married in my gown and rollers.

"What happened, Johanna?" I ask quietly.

She doesn't reply, so I ask again. "Did Gale do something to you?" I heard his version of the story, but he might have done something that upset her without even noticing.

"What?" she asks surprised. "No." And she shakes her head to stress it.

"Okay," I say. "What happened then?" I smile. "Because, you know, you are kind of stealing my day here. Not that I mind, don't get me wrong."

A shadow of a smile appears on her face too, but then she goes back to her serious and slightly upset face. When she doesn't reply I check the dress and the veil, which are hanging in the shower. Luckily Johanna didn't have the idea of turning on the water. Probably she still has a slight fear of water.

"Listen, Johanna," I say, "you should probably get some rest, maybe you can skip the ceremony in the Justice Building… I mean, it's going to be incredibly boring anyway. I hope _I_ won't fall asleep it." I smile, stand up and walk towards the door. I stop when she finally speaks to me.

"I hate being pregnant, Katniss," she says in a whisper.

I turn to look at her and frown. I thought she loved being pregnant, she was all a happy and chatty about it the other day, and every single day after that. I am sure it's the hormones talking. I try to remember what pregnant women have always complained about, swollen feet, back pain, morning sickness. I tell her that I understand and that I am sure her feet are killing her and the stretches on her sides must be scary to look at.

"Stretches?" she asks. "No, I hate this Katniss, and it's not because my feet are the size of those loaves of bread that Peeta bakes or because I can't stand up if I am lying on my back or I can't pick up something from the floor."

"Then what is it?" I ask urgently, knowing that the clock is ticking away.

She takes a deep breath. "Remember when we were in the arena?" she asks and I nod. I could never forget the arena, not the first time, neither the second. "Remember when they sent those jabberjays to confound us? The ones with the voices of the people that we loved?"

"Yes," I reply quietly, "you said you didn't have anybody left that you loved."

"And I was strong, right? I was the strongest." She grits her teeth and closes her fists. "I don't want to be weak again. I don't want to have to love anybody."

"That makes no sense at all." I touch her hand with mine, but she moves hers away. "Don't you already love Gale?"

She looks away. "No. Yes. No." She lets out a grunt. "Okay, yes, I do. But it's different. I can always… unlove him whenever I want."

I cock my head and look at her like my mother sometimes looks at me. "Are you sure, Johanna? Let me tell you that even if Peeta and I are—"

"Oh please!" she snaps. "No _Peeta and I_ stories here. I get it, you are in love and everything, good for you, but this is different. We were just having fun and… _zap!_ I got caught in this web." She touches her stomach.

I feel a little annoyed at her for not wanting to listen to my tale of love between Peeta and me. Probably Peeta would have managed to charm her with his words, but I am just too bad and really all I want is getting ready and get over with the ceremony. Then we can have all the talks she wants. Somehow, though, I know that I am not just that egocentric because I haven't unlocked the door just yet and if I wanted I could have done that anytime.

"You looked so happy," I say weakly.

"Oh I am," she replies in all, but a happy tone, "and then I am not. And then I am and then not." She looks at me her eyes wide. "I don't want to have children. I don't know anything about them, and what… what if I am not able to protect them? To love them as I should?" She lets out a half sob. "I don't know how to love anymore…"

I open my mouth to say something comforting, but she doesn't let me speak.

"What if they come and take them? What if they drown them?" her voice is a scared whisper.

I frown. "Who are _they_, Johanna?" I ask.

"The Capitol."

Wow, indirectly, Snow is actually able to ruin my wedding day. Post-mortem even. "The Capitol is not going to hurt you anymore," I say, seriously. "They are not going to hurt us anymore."

"That's what Gale says all the time and I don't believe him!" she screams.

"Well, Gale doesn't know," I say, even though I know he does. "But I do. I understand what you went through and I went through that as well. Peeta went through it." I grab her wrists and make her look at me. "Nobody is going to harm you, okay? You are free to love whoever you want without having to be scared that someone will put them in an arena and kill them." I get closer to her. "We are free, Johanna. Free to marry, to have children, free to love and be happy." I smile. "They can't control us anymore," I whisper in her ear.

The moment is filled with emotions. Especially for me, I have never had to do such a meaningful speech to anybody in all my life. That is usually Peeta's task. Or my mother's when she is around. So many emotions are filling my head and so, it is kind of a throw off when Johanna starts laughing in almost a maniacal way.

I step back and look at her amused face. That is some unexpected development on the situation, she was screaming and sobbing a few seconds before. "Are you okay?"

She nods and keeps laughing. "I think you should get married, now," she replies, catching her breath.

"Okay," I say weakly. Haymitch's voice echoes in my ears. Yes, I can hear you, no crazy people next time. I walk towards the door and unlock it. Gale, Peeta, Effie, the prep team, my mother, Haymitch and some more people are all standing on the other side, looking expectantly at me. I want to say that everything is fine and that we should get going with the preparations for the wedding, but my mother and Gale walk past me and go directly to Johanna who keeps laughing, while Peeta grabs my forearm and pulls me towards him.

"What happened? Is she all right?" he asks.

I nod and want to reply to him, but the prep team and Effie surround us and I am pushed back into the bathroom while Johanna is walking out with Gale and my mother on both sides of her. My prep team is working frenetically to make up for the lost time, I can see Effie in the mirror as she grabs the wedding dress and the veil and takes them out with a disapproving look on her face. I glance at Peeta and he smiles weakly from the bedroom, then Haymitch puts his arm around my future husband's shoulders and pulls him away the moment Octavia closes the door.

Well, let the fun begin.

xxx

My prep team and Effie have done a wonderful job. Or that is what I think when I look at myself into the mirror. Cinna would be proud of how I look now. Staring back at me there is the enhanced, yet-you-can-still-recognize-me, version of me. As if Effie wanted to honor my stylist, she spent an hour toning down the most daring make-up designs that the prep team came up with for my face and nails. No fake lashes, no wig, no white powdered face. I have smoky eyes and red lipstick with rosy cheeks and equally rosy nail polish. My hair is a tidy crown of curls, styled in a complicated, half-raised, half-down hairdo. I look halfway through a girl and a woman.

The prep team pushes me out of the bathroom and they strip me naked, they make me wear silk underwear and ask me to raise my arms over my head to let the dress fall gracefully on my body without ruffling my hair. Finally, Flavius pins the veil over my head and I can only get a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror of the room, before Effie guides me towards the door. My mother is standing on the other side, she looks beautiful, Newell is lucky. She is lucky too, because he is not too bad himself. He has only arrived this morning, instead of two days earlier as he was supposed to, but apparently an explosion in District Four has forced him to stay at the hospital longer hours and attend a series of life saving surgeries. He is tall, dark hair and olive skin, he reminds me a little bit too much of my father, but that is another reason for me to like him. I haven't talked too much with him, but his voice was deep and calm when he introduced himself and congratulated Peeta and me. My mother hugs me and I hug her back.

"How do I look?" I ask, since I haven't had the time to check myself properly in the mirror.

She smiles. "Terrified," she replies sweetly. "Just like every bride to be."

I try to smile to what is obviously a joke – isn't it? – but my lips are kind of sealed together because of the thick layer of lipstick.

"Let's go," she says, and only now I notice that everybody else has left the house. Effie, the prep team, everybody must be on his or her way to the Justice Building already. I nod again and follow her down the stairs and towards the front door. I try to hurry, but I am wobbly in that dress. There is a car parked outside and Dalton is driving it. Haymitch is waiting for me with his back against the door of the car. He smiles to me. "Only an hour late. Impressive for someone who has just climbed a tree and almost fell off it."

"Really? Did I miss all this?" asks Dalton as he nods towards me with a smile on his face.

I sigh. "What's with the car?"

"Peeta wanted it," replies Dalton.

"He didn't tell me," I say slightly annoyed that he hasn't consulted me.

"Get in," says Haymitch as he opens the door for me, "and while we are in there I'll tell you about the concept of surprise."

I roll my eyes but feel sheepish at my remark. I walk into the car. I am wearing vertiginously high heels for my standards – which are probably flats for Effie's standards – and my walking is extremely instable. Luckily, the dress is not too voluminous, so I manage to smoothly get into the car and slide towards the middle of the vehicle. My mother gets in after me, while Haymitch closes the door and comes into the car from the other side.

I squeeze between the two of them, fidgeting my manicured nails in my lap as the car starts moving excruciatingly slow. Nobody speaks during the ride. It takes us ten minutes to get to the Justice Building on foot from my house, the car is taking almost twice the time. I slide down and try to disappear between Haymitch and my mother, but I can't see many people around anyway. "Where is everybody?" I ask when the fact that people are missing from the town finally starts to get too eerie.

"In the Seam for the treasure hunt," says Haymitch lightly.

"What?" There is no such thing as a treasure hunt, and especially not in the Seam. What is he talking about?

"Treasure hunt," he sighs, "and the treasure is a ticket to Caesar Flickerman's TV show."

"What are you talking about?" I ask again.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure someone must have told you," he says, "Paylor thought that the best way of having your wedding private was to keep all the people in the District busy with something else. So Plutarch stepped in and created this incredibly stupid – yet absurdly popular – treasure hunt, with clues and things and the winner will win a trip to the Capitol and an interview with Flickerman. Everything is being filmed, naturally, and broadcasted live." He taps on the window. "Hey, you… driver! Can we speed up? She is already an hour late."

Dalton grunts something in reply and slows down even more. But it doesn't matter, since the Justice Building is now dangerously close and the car stops in front of it with a screech of tires. Haymitch glares at Dalton and Dalton glares at Haymitch, but they haven't enough time to get into a discussion. My mother opens the door and jumps out, she lends me a hand and I grab it, getting out behind her. She is wearing a red and orange dress which reaches down to her knees and her hair is up in a stylish bun with blonde curls falling on her face.

"I'll see you inside," she whispers, hugging me gracefully. I nod and she disappears before I can say anything else. She is replaced by Haymitch, whom, I notice, is wearing an elegant tuxedo, with a pink rose in his breast pocket and a creamy silk tie. I've never seen him that elegant, not even when he had to take part to Capitol events.

He puts his hands on mine and I notice that I am still fidgeting nervously. I look up at him and he looks very serious back at me. "You look…" He nods as if it is quite difficult for him to be in that situation, to be the one who has to pay me a compliment. He doesn't have to, but I am too tongue tied to even try to stop him. "… you are ravishing."

I blush instantly, I know because I can feel the heat on my cheeks. Not used to such touching moments between Haymitch and me. "Thank you," I whisper.

His face relaxes. "Yeah, no problem." He lets me go and comes to stand at my side. I grab his arm and we walk towards the door.

"Haymitch," I say quietly. "I think I am going to throw up."

"Not on my shoes, sweetheart, they come from the Capitol," he says back at me and effectively moving away. "Listen, if you lose the shoes, you can make it to the car and have Dalton driving you to the station before people even notice that you are gone." He pushes his arm towards his torso, trapping my hand in there as if he thinks that I might take him seriously.

I look at him and frown. "Aren't you supposed to say that everything will be all right?" I hiss.

"Everything will be all right," he says flatly.

"Oh Haymitch!" I say, irritated.

"Listen, sweetheart, I don't know if everything will be all right or not, I'm not a freaking seer." He stops when we reach the main door. "But one thing I know and that thing is that you love Peeta and Peeta loves you. So you go in there and get married to the boy, you understand me?"

"I do," I say mesmerized.

I hear music coming from inside, slowly and creakily the doors start to open. I squeeze Haymitch's arm and he places his hand over mine. The first person I get a glimpse of is Peeta, standing there, looking pale and as frightened as I do. Then the music becomes even louder and Haymitch starts walking down the aisle, dragging me with him.

"Ready?" he whispers.

I could as well be walking towards the arena. "Ready."


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: **Okay, I don't like this chapter, so you can flame it if you want. I would probably back you up. It is just flat, with no great descriptions or cool moments. I didn't enjoy writing it and I don't particuarly like how it came out. All I could think about while I was writing was chapters that will come after this one.. So sorry for this! Hope you don't find it too tedious!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
**

I try to focus on my feet. I am not comfortable in those shoes anyway, so I don't think anybody will figure out that I am keeping my eyes down only because I want to avoid everybody's eyes. As I am walking down the aisle with Haymitch next to me, I notice something that makes me feel slightly weird. I am actually really not afraid of tidying the knot with Peeta. Interesting enough, the reason of my urge to flee is not my impending wedding, I want to marry that boy, I can't see myself with anybody but him. My problem is the little crowd that is staring at me at this very moment. Some of them, even though I am not looking at them, are sobbing quietly, tears of joy, I hope. I have been in the centre of attention since I volunteered for Prim, but I have never enjoyed it; and today, even though the crowd is much smaller than what I am used to, it is no different. The difference with the other times that I have been with all eyes on me is that this time I have nobody to force me here – apart from Haymitch who is blocking my hand between his side and his arm and preventing my escape. Every other time, when I was taken by the Capitol and shoved into an arena, or forced by President Coin to go here and there and be a public figure against my will, I had no possibility of evasion. This time I can leave whenever I want, and it is exactly because this newfound freedom that I am caressing the idea of fleeing.

"Katniss?"

I raise my eyes and notice that I am no longer walking down the aisle. I am standing right in front of Peeta, with President Paylor on my left, a book in her hands and a black, plain dress covering her figure. Peeta is staring at me, almost holding his breath, he looks calm, but somehow I know he is not. I look at Paylor and ask, "What?" very much like I did when I was sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman. I think I must have blacked out just as much as necessary to miss the beginning of my wedding ceremony.

Paylor looks at me with concern then says, "As I was saying we are gathered here today to join Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark in matrimony…"

From those words, I don't remember much. I think I said all the right things when I was supposed to say them, but I don't remember saying them at all. But since I now have a ring on my finger, it looks like the ceremony was completed in the right way. I remember myself saying "I do" at some point, and I remember Peeta's eyes, just simply huge and staring at me all the time, as if he, too, were waiting for me to take off and leave him there. Luckily for us, my feet seemed glued to the Justice Building floor. It is only when Peeta grabs me by my hand and drags me outside, in the clear light of day, that I am finally understanding what's happening.

People wants to take pictures with us, and I am told to smile more often than not. Peeta has to nudge me in the ribs every time we are posing for a photo and I am about to fall down every five minutes. I can't wait to be home and lose the dress and the shoes, oh but wait! I can't lose anything at all, because we are hosting a party for the guests.

"Are you okay, Katniss?" Peeta whispers into my ear as he pulls me into the car.

I look at him and don't know how to reply. "We are married," I say weakly, and I can feel a spontaneous smile spreading on my lips.

"We most certainly are," he whispers back, placing his left hand on mine. "Do you have any recollection of the ceremony at all?"

I look at him as if he was out of his mind. The ceremony just ended, how can I not remember it. "Of course I do," I say, my voice raspy.

He doesn't fall for that. "You were someplace else." he says, amused. "That's okay, I guess that's what prevented you from leaving me up there all alone in front of everybody."

"Are you saying that I was about to run away?" I try to sound shocked.

"I don't know, I know I was," he replies calmly.

That comes as a real shock. "Excuse me?" I ask, while Peeta waves to the crowd of people outside the car as we move slowly towards our house. They will meet us there.

He shrugs. "Not leaving you up there," he says quietly, so that Dalton can't hear us, "just run away."

"And that is not leaving me up there how?"

He chuckles. "Ever since I was reaped I don't particularly enjoy crowds."

"I thought you loved them," I say matter-of-factly, remembering his attitude when we reached the Capitol or when we were having our interviews.

"No, that was just my stay alive tactic." He smiles. "I like being alone with you. That's what I like. You and I and nobody—"

I don't let him finish. I kiss him more passionately than I would normally do, apparently for no reason, in reality, I just discovered that he is more similar to me than I expected. Not necessarily a good thing, but I can't help feeling even more connected to him than before. I case we need another excuse to be connected.

"Hey you kids," says Dalton, when our kiss becomes steamier than expected and Peeta's hand slides from my shoulder to my breast. "I think you should save this for tonight." He looks at us through the rear-view mirror and adds, "Or maybe for the bathroom break that you are suspiciously going to take together…"

xxx

You know that feeling when you have been tense for a long time, and suddenly you are home and you can relax again and because you were so tense, you are now ravenously hungry? That is me at this very moment as I scarf down the lamb stew that I've been served by an unusually elegant Greasy Sae. We are all dining in the garden, where a long table has been placed right in the middle of it by I don't know who. Peeta and I are squeezing at one end while all the other guests are at our right and left, nobody is sitting on the other end of the table. Everybody is talking amongst themselves, laughing, looking at each other, making simple conversation or commenting about the food. Sometimes someone will come and ask us if we are happy, if we like the food, if we want more wine, if they can make a toast in our honor. I have had enough wine to last me for a year, but I've been eating so much that I really don't care, I need to wash down all the delicious food, plus I don't think it possible for me to get drunk after all this food. There are lights all around us, in the trees and on the ground and candles on the table, apparently this whole arrangement has been thought to let us party well after sunset. How sweet of whoever decided this – if I didn't know they were otherwise engaged, I would have thought that there were Effie and Haymitch behind all this. I am afraid to admit that despite this being my wedding, I haven't had too much to do with its actual preparation.

"How's the wine?" asks Haymitch, as he raises his own glass. He is seated at Peeta's left, at the place where Peeta's father should have been seated.

"Good," I say, raising my own glass. Peeta does the same, but he still has the same wine that we were first poured when the party began. I have lost count of my glasses, and I am starting to feeling a little tipsy, still I know I won't get drunk. "How's the party?"

He shrugs. "I little too many crazy people," he replies nonchalantly. "Apart from this, nice ceremony, nice food and great wine."

"You brought the wine," points out Peeta.

"Exactly," he replies with a grin. "I've been saving this for months in a secret location where—"

"Your pantry," says Peeta matter-of-factly.

Haymitch laughs. "Yes, my pantry, good job. Are you spying on me?"

"Why would we be spying on you?" I ask in a slightly slurry voice. "It's not like your life is interesting at all. Not like you have secret affairs with women from the Capitol in your living room, right?"

Haymitch eyes me intently. "No, right…" He raises his glass and pats Peeta's shoulder and goes back to his seat, right next to Effie.

"I think you are getting drunk," he says, grabbing the glass from my hand and placing it back on the table.

"Really?" I ask, taking the glass into my hands again. "You know what you should do? You should get drunk as well and then we can have fun."

"I think I can have fun and stay sober at the same time," he replies, grabbing my hand which is now poking his chest every words he says. "Actually, I think we should ditch the party and start to have fun." He looks at me and adds, "Or maybe just before you pass out."

"Nonsense," I reply. "We need to dance first! It's our wedding!"

"I thought you didn't like dancing."

I don't reply. I laugh and drink, I smile and make what I think are intelligent remarks to the people who come to congratulate us. Everybody is laughing and I am laughing and as soon as Peeta has something else to drink he is laughing too. We dance and he makes me spin and then I dance with Haymitch and Gale and Peeta dances with Effie and with Annie and with every other woman. And then… I need to lie down on the grass… Everything goes black and I just hear people laughing over me and the grass is soft under my body... I feel the Earth spinning and I fall asleep.

xxx

When I wake up it is morning. Birds are chiming from outside the window, the sun is shining right on my face and my naked body is covered by a soft blanket. I look around myself and discover that I am in my bedroom, on my bed. I sit up and the room starts spinning, so I feel like slumping down back on the bed. I moan and patiently wait for the room to stop moving and for my blood to stop pounding into my temples.

"Good, you are up."

I open my eyes and look at Peeta. He is standing in the doorframe, a steamy hot cup of something in his hands.

"Crazy night, eh?" he says amused.

"It must have been," I reply croakily, "I am completely naked under this thing."

He chuckles. "Oh, don't let your fantasy run wild," he says, "I undressed you, but it was only because you puked all over the dress."

I groan. "Are you sure? That doesn't sound like me."

"It sounds like the drunk you." He comes closer and sits on the bed next to me, the mattress moves and those little movements make me nauseated. He sees that on my face, but he doesn't stop moving until he is sitting with his back against the headboard and his legs on the bed. If I didn't know him better, I thought he was enjoying this. "Hot tea? Your mother says it helps with hangover."

I shake my head and draw the blanket over my face. I want to disappear. I don't even want to know what happened. My head is spinning and I have the vague feeling that I missed most of last night celebration.

"So, apparently, Haymitch said that you really don't know how to drink," says Peeta, somehow enjoying himself, "he said that he has never seen someone getting drunk with all that food in their body. On the other hand, your mother said that it's because of your small constitution, alcohol is more easily absorbed by your body."

"That's why you were fine."

"No, I was fine because I didn't drink as much as you did."

I bit my lip. It's okay, he can't see me from under the blanket. I am wearing my underwear, actually, so his story must be true. Not that I thought otherwise, I can't really picture Peeta lying to me. "I'm starting to feel that you might be a little bit annoyed with me."

He laughs again. "Weirdly enough, I am not," he says calmly, and once again I believe him. "I was almost going to drink my way out of that party as well."

"But you didn't," I say sheepishly.

"Yeah, I don't know what you've been told, but I'm strong," he says, tapping his fingers on the cup.

"So you are not mad at me?"

"Well, I was kind of looking forward to our first night as husband and wife, but I guess tonight is just as good."

I freeze. Husband and wife. It sounds weird. Especially, when I am the wife. Especially, when I have a husband. Someone with whom to share my life till death do us apart. I know, we have planned this wedding for months, the husband/wife thing had all the time in the world to sink in, but it's only now that we are actually married that the reality of the act overwhelms me. I don't feel different, only, maybe, more mature? It's just in my head, though, because if I were more mature than before I wouldn't be in bed with a colossal hangover.

"Are you sleeping again?" whispers Peeta and I feel him coming closer to me, but with my nauseating breath I wish he is not going to draw the blanket back.

"No," I say. "I was thinking." I stir under the blanket.

"Are you feeling like coming out of that cocoon any time soon?" he asks me.

I groan. "That depends, do I have to?"

He chuckles. "I think you do. Almost everybody is leaving today and they really want to see the beautiful bride one more time before they leave."

"I'm sorry, but the beautiful bride is not available at the moment," I reply, "but we have the incredibly hangover bride, the stinking breath bride or the ghastly looking bride."

"Shall I say that to the guests?"

"I'd rather you not," I reply from under the blanket.

"How about a shower?" he asks.

I groan. "With you?" Not that I don't want to have shower sex with Peeta is just that… I don't want to have shower sex with Peeta when I feel like I will know the content of the dinner I can't remember in a few minutes.

"Tempting," he says, laughing, "but no thanks." He places the hot tea on the bedside table. "I feel like we should wait until we can focus on the sex and not on the vomit."

"Agree."

He pushes with his hands on the mattress and stands up, making the bed wobble.

"Urgh," I say. "Peeta, every time you move this bed I feel like I might just throw up…"

"I know," he says brightly. "People call it _revenge_."

xxx

The boiling hot shower and the now not-so-hot-tea make me feel much better. Or maybe it is because I just threw up the rest of my dinner – when did I have shrimps? – but anyway, I feel refreshed and beautiful. Okay, not so beautiful after I have had a good look at myself into the mirror. This waterproof makeup is as hard as hell to clean, so I have some dark stains around my eyes and my lips have smeared, fainted lipstick all over them. I look like a clown. I find a pearly white summer dress on the chair next to the bathroom door and clean underwear. Before I start to dress up, I brush my teeth vigorously and dry my hair with a towel. I decide to go for the fresh-out-of-the-shower look, the easiest I know.

I walk downstairs and there is a crowd of voices coming from the kitchen. I move silently, my feet are bare, and peek through the door to see who is there. Well, basically everybody is in there. And once again there is food on the table and people are just walking around and picking pieces of cheese and fruit and pancakes and biscuits. There is no alcohol – after all it is only eleven in the morning – but fruit juices and hot beverages are everywhere.

"Katniss!" Effie is the first one to notice me, standing at the door, and when she calls my name everybody turns to look at me. She walks towards me and circles my shoulders with her arm. "Are you okay?" she asks in a whisper.

I nod and glance towards the people around us. "Is this another party?"

"Of course," she says, smiling. "This is the brunch after the wedding. Luckily you can attend because it would just be a gathering of people without the bride."

"Luckily," I say weakly, but she doesn't even hear it since she has to go and prevent Annie's son to put his tiny hands into the steamy tea pot.

Peeta walks up to me and hands me another cup of tea. "This should be good for your hangover," he says as he drinks some inviting hot chocolate from his cup. "Do you feel any better?"

"Much better," I say, sipping the tea. "I didn't know we were hosting a brunch."

"Yeah, same here," he replies casually. "Effie's idea, apparently." He sips and looks around the room, I follow his gaze and soon we are both looking at Effie and Haymitch. They are filling their plates with fresh fruit and every now and then Haymitch puts a strawberry on Effie's plate and she fills his plate with cottage cheese. They graze each other's hands in a most natural way, and they don't look suspicious at all… unless you actually know that they had sex on Haymitch's kitchen table two days before. Next to them, my mother and her new… friend, Newell, are chatting cheerfully. I don't know exactly what they are talking about, but when he feed her a strawberry I have to look away. Johanna and Gale are on the other side of the room. If I didn't know that they were together, I couldn't have imagined it from their current behavior. Johanna is eating ravenously pancakes and strawberries – what's with the strawberries, really? – her eyes fixed on the plate, while Gale is having a slice of cheese with his hands and looking at Annie. Annie is talking to Beetee and Dalton and the others are just enjoying the buffet.

"I have to say that I am quite happy that you decided to keep this wedding private," says Plutarch as he walks towards Peeta and me.

"How so?" asks Peeta.

"Last night wouldn't have been very flattering for Katniss, I guess," he says matter-of-factly, "but I reckon it would have attracted millions of viewers." He winks and smiles.

I darken. "Well, thank you for not broadcasting my most embarrassing moments, Plutarch," I say, "did you enjoy the wedding?"

"Very much indeed," he replies, "I got to see how you get married in this District and at the same time it was nice to have a bit of Capitol traditions as well." He smiles. "Paylor was good too. Did you know that this was her first wedding?"

"Interesting," replies Peeta when I don't say anything. "Maybe we should thank her."

"You should, yes," says Plutarch, gesturing to the President to come closer.

Paylor excuses herself from Greasy Sae and walks gracefully towards us. "President Paylor, I believe the Mellarks want to say something to you."

Right, the Mellarks, that's who we are now. "We wanted to thank you for performing the ceremony," I say quickly. "We know you must be busy, so we appreciate you coming all the way from the Capitol to marry us."

"My pleasure," she replies, "it's actually nice to get away from the Capitol frenzy every now and then."

Peeta nods knowingly and I do too. After all, she is not from the Capitol, she is from the Districts just like us, I can't imagine what it would be for me to be forced to live in the Capitol all my life. I can understand why she is happy to be here with us.

"So are we going to open our presents now?" asks Peeta.

"Oh my good boy, no!" exclaims Plutarch. "Effie would be horrified. You have to open them once everybody left and then send 'thank you' cards to the people who gave you the presents."

"Sounds like an awful lot of unnecessary work," says Paylor truthfully.

"It is," replies Plutarch calmly, "but it's the way it works." He turns towards us. "Oh, but you don't have to worry, I know Effie is going to stay here longer to make sure that you don't forget anybody."

"Yeah, that's why she is staying," I mutter, not softly enough because Peeta elbows me in the ribs. I know I shouldn't, but I have this urge to let Haymitch and Effie know that I know about them, just to see their faces. Probably Peeta wouldn't be too happy about that, especially because at the question, "How do you know?" the answer would be that he spied on them from the pantry door.

"Oh would you excuse me," says Paylor, "but I love those strawberries. I suppose they come from District 11, don't they?"

"They do," says Plutarch, "Katniss' mother ordered them especially for this brunch."

I look at them walking towards the strawberries and even though I am sure that the little fruits are delicious I just don't feel like ingesting anything solid yet. "Am I the only one who feels like she doesn't know a thing about this wedding?"

"No," replies Peeta. "I think that while we only wanted to get married, the others wanted everything to be perfect and we just let them do whatever they wanted." He stops and sighs. "By the way, when I say _they_ I mean Effie."

"Right," I agree, "just, it's not that bad after all. She did everything, everything was perfect, she was happy, we were happy… it was a win-win."

Peeta looks at me and smiles. "Look at you, all positive and happy." He nudges me playfully with his shoulder and when I am ready to nudge him back my mother comes over to us. I haven't walked away from the door yet, but it is okay, I guess, because people keep coming to say something to us, so we are not exactly left out of the party. Nobody, except Plutarch, mentions last night mishap, luckily, but they all look intently to me as if they wait for my permission to start commenting on it.

"I am afraid Newell and I will have to leave first thing in the afternoon, if we want to make it back for tonight shift at the hospital," she says quietly.

"You are leaving so soon?" asks Peeta, quiet upset. I think he will actually miss her more than I do. She is now the closest to a parent he has. Apart from Haymitch. Who doesn't really feel like a parent at all.

"We need to," says my mother. "I have been away from the hospital quite a long time and they need me. They also need Newell, so we are catching the same train back to District Four." She smiles and sips some fruit juice from a crystal glass. "We will come to visit in the summer, though." She eyes me. "Or maybe you can come and visit us in District Four." I cringe. I feel like every other person will soon ask us to go visit them in some part of Panem. I don't want to go anywhere though.

"Yes, I guess we'll see you soon." I smile to her.

"Yes," she says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

Delly, whose presence I haven't even noticed for the whole wedding, makes her way through the people and comes to us, a plate full of eggs and cheese. "Katniss," she says, "I wanted to tell you that I loved the ceremony yesterday, and this food is just delicious!" She spoons some cheese in her mouth. "You have to give me the recipe of these eggs."

"You have to ask Greasy Sae," says Peeta.

"Yes, she is the cook, not me," I reply.

Then it's this over and over again. People come to say something to us, something meaningless, something funny, and then go back to the food and then come back and say other things. Until one after the other they all decide that they have a train to catch or things to do before they leave. As I feared, they invite us to their houses. Johanna makes me swear that we'll go to their wedding, and I promise that if I go I'll lock myself in the bathroom. Gale shakes Peeta's hand vigorously and he hugs me, but speaking has never been his strong suit, so he doesn't say anything. Then finally, there are only Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, Effie and Haymitch and Peeta and me in the house.

"We survived the Mockingjay's wedding," says Haymitch, raising his glass to toast to that.

Effie glares at him. "It was a most gracious event," she says, even though I know that she would have rather not have had the bride drunk on the ground. "I will stay for another week, just to make sure you send out the "thank you" cards to everybody and do all the things that you have to do after the wedding."

"Like what?" I ask.

She smiles nervously. "Like you know, things that you have to do after the wedding… if you don't know, Katniss, that means that I do have to stay to show you. We don't want people to think you are ungrateful, do we?"

xxx

I lie on my back, my breath is ragged. Peeta's is too. Beads of sweat are covering every inch of my skin. I have to say it is quite nice to have the house for ourselves once again, I could scream just as loudly as I wanted and the bed was screeching in protest all the time.

"So," says Peeta next to me, "first time as husband and wife."

I nod, even though I know he can't see me, I know he can hear my head brushing on the pillow. "Not too bad," I say as I slide my foot near his leg and up his calf. "Are you ready to go again?"

"Again?" He seems to ponder this for a while, but after only two seconds he adds, "Okay."

I am loving married life.


End file.
